Make Some Noise
by LaLainaJ
Summary: A collection of Klaroline oneshots and drabbles. Now: CH88 A tipsy Princess, an exasperated guard. Sounds like the beginning of a quest. CH87 Caroline's concerned about a diner patron. He's a good sport about it.
1. Her Favorite Part

**Notes**: So this is going to be a collection of Klaroline one-shots. Probably smutty ones, so be forewarned. Title stolen shamelessly from 'Dirrty.' Quick story: when I first started dabbling in writing Klaroline last fall I was mostly messing around in an attempt to be more comfortable with smut writing. I didn't actually end up posting anything until January when I started Like the Sun Shines. A few of my initial attempts are still kicking around my laptop and might get polished up and put in this collection, we'll see. Otherwise, I'd be thrilled if anyone wants to send a prompt my way! I'm lalainajanes on tumblr.

This first one is for **Angelikah** (aka thetourguidebarbie aka the smut fairy) because she giveth tons of awesome smut, so it's only fair that she receives some smut in return, occasionally. She gave me a handful of prompts and this is my first crack at one. The prompt was "I think we're lost." It's kind of fluffier than I had meant it to be but what can you do? They wanted to snuggle after. Comments always welcome and appreciated.

Also, this is my first successful standalone drabble! I'm quite proud.

**Her Favorite Part:**

**(AH-AU In which Klaus and Caroline disagree about whether or not they're lost. And also about the definition of 'hiking.' Smut.)**

"I think we're lost."

Klaus looked at her over his shoulder, "We're not lost," he insists.

"Are you sure? We've definitely passed that tree before."

"We have not, love."

Caroline grumbles under her breath but does not argue. She's going give him another half hour to find a direction and then, if they still seemed to be wandering aimlessly, she was turning her phone back on and consulting a map. There was only so much of this alpha male 'I don't need no stinking map' nonsense that she could take.

She might be a little perturbed, but this is so not how she thought this day was going to go.

When Klaus had suggested hiking she'd thought it was code for getting it on alfresco. They'd gotten tipsy and snuck off from a friend's wedding a couple weeks ago, had some pretty damn fantastic sex in the woods that surrounded the venue. She'd ruined her manicure, digging her nails into the hard ground, and had been picking leaves out of her hair for the rest of the night, leaving all of their friends with no illusions as to what they'd been doing when they'd snuck off for twenty (fine, forty!) minutes.

Whatever. Caroline could deal with a little ribbing. It had been worth it.

Extra worth it for the two times she'd come on Klaus' tongue when he'd gotten all fired up again seeing the grass stains on her knees the next day.

So when he'd said 'hiking' she'd imagined he just wanted a repeat, and she'd been onboard. Caroline had thought that they'd spend hours fucking in the sunlight, in a remote location, where they wouldn't have to worry about discovery.

She's been a little leery when they'd parked the car and he'd handed her a bag of supplies, but then Klaus did enjoy props.

But no, they were _actually_ hiking. Had been for ages now. If she'd have known he'd intended to spend the day at unfun physical activities she would have worn underwear. And a sports bra, probably. Klaus had taken the lead on the trail early on (he had even picked up a frickin' walking stick!) so she couldn't even strategically bend over in front of him and let her very small shorts work their magic.

Caroline's trying to make the best of it. Klaus had taken off his shirt awhile back, and the flexing of the lean muscles of his shoulders as he walks is definitely pleasing to look at. And hey, the nature stuff is pretty, if not exactly her thing. And she supposed the whole 'phone's off' rule was kind of nice. Relaxing.

Oh, who was she kidding? She was bored. She hated bugs. She was dying to check Instagram.

Also, Caroline was still kind of mad that her dreams of forest sex hadn't come to fruition. She'd developed some quality fantasies. And she was kind of horny, because she keeps thinking about them, and watching the odd bead of sweat drip down Klaus' neck isn't exactly turning her off.

Glancing around she notes that they do seem to have stopped walking in circle, so that's a good sign. In fact…

Caroline stops abruptly, and listens intently (thank you, dad, for all those camping trips!). She can make out the faint sound of running water to her left. Klaus had taken a few strides forward but had turned around to face her when he'd noticed she wasn't keeping pace. Ugh. The view of his shirtless, sweaty torso was even better from the front, the rat bastard.

Her gaze lingers on the low slung waistband of the cargo pants he's wearing, she can't help but want to lick the indents under his hips. When she meets his eyes he's smirking at her knowingly.

Well. Two can play that game.

She shrugs off the backpack, uncaring when it lands in a bush next to the trail. She peels of the loose grey tank she'd been wearing and throws it at him. Without a word, she turns from the path and cuts through the thick foliage, making for the water. She unclasps her bra and pulls out the elastic that had been holding her hair up, waits for him to catch up.

Caroline hears the trees rustling around him, "Love," he asks impatiently, "what're you…"

"What am I doing?" she finishes his sentence, not bothering to turn around. She quickly undoes the button of her shorts, wiggles her hips and lets them drop.

Klaus inhales audibly, probably because he's realizing she'd forgone panties. Hopefully because he finally understands that they could've been having very naughty fun times all afternoon. Caroline looks over at him, "I still think we're lost."

"We're not lost," he counters, eyes glued to her ass.

Caroline shakes her head at his stubbornness, "And I'm hot."

"Yes you are," Klaus intones lustfully.

"That was cheesy. But I'll forgive you, if you strip, and get in that pond with me."

Klaus had dropped everything in his hands the second she'd said 'strip.'

Caroline giggles, and wades in. She ducks under the surface and begins to swim towards the middle of the pond, where there's a couple of boulders piled up. The pond's not very deep, the waterline hitting the bottom of her ribcage when she stands, but the water's cool and clean and feels amazing against her skin.

If she plays her card right she's pretty sure she can still make hot outdoor sex happen.

She walks around the rocks, out of sight, hears the sounds of Klaus splashing behind her. It's only a few seconds until he's plastered to her back, clutching her hips. He pushes her hair over one shoulder, kisses her bared neck, "Am I to surmise, my love, that you are not a fan of hiking? You seemed excited when I mentioned it."

"Yeah, because I thought, 'let's go hiking' was code for 'I want to ravage you in the woods again.' Hence my excitement."

Klaus rests his forehead on the back of her neck. The puffs of his breath on her damp skin as he laughs softly send a pleasant tingle down her spine.

"My apologies, had I only known of your desires, I would have been happy to indulge them."

Caroline can feel that he's begun to harden, so she shifts her hips enough to rub against him, and help the process along.

"You can make it up to me," she coaxes.

"Oh really?" Klaus questions, one arm banding across her hips, grinding her ass against him, while the other hand palms a breast, "How may I acquit myself?"

Caroline's head falls back on a gasp as he tugs at her nipple just right and his mouth works the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "Do that again," She pleads and can feel his mouth form a grin as he obeys.

She moans, lifts a hand to tangle in his hair, uses the other to grab his wrist and try to drag in to her center. "I do believe I'm getting the idea, love," Klaus murmurs.

Caroline both loves and loathes that little note of smugness in his tone. They've only been together for five months, but he'd been able to get her off better than anyone ever had right from the beginning, and he delighted in experimenting with all the ways he could make her body burn. Klaus shifts them forward, closer to the rocks, pries her hand out of his curls.

He sets her hands on the rock, spread wide, runs his hands slowly down her arms, "Keep them there, love," he instructs, bringing his hands back to her hips.

Caroline nods, breath coming faster, liking the direction this was taking.

Klaus nudges her legs further apart, brings his knee up between her thighs to brace against the rock, using his hand to tilt her hips back so she's forced to use her arms to keep herself upright. Instinctively, she tries to rock her pussy against his leg where it's pressed against her, but his grip on her hips prevents her from doing so.

"Not so fast. We're going to do this nice and slow. You've been waiting, all day, haven't you? Nothing between your pussy and those sinful little shorts you wore to tease me. Were you wet, Caroline? Just waiting for me to take you against one of those trees."

Dirty talk in his fucking accent just wasn't fair.

She doesn't answer him, too busy trying to will him to actually touch her. She wants his hands on her breasts, his fingers on her clit. Something. Anything.

He nips her neck and she jolts, not unpleasantly, at the sting, "I'm waiting for an answer, love."

Her mind is embarrassingly fuzzy. Had he asked a question? Oh, right. "Yes," she finally manages to hiss.

"Yes, what?"

It's probably a good thing he can't see her roll her eyes, with the mood he's in. "Yes, I was wet. I wore those shorts to tease you, but sometimes I'd take a step just right and the seam would rub my clit and I'd have to count to ten to stop myself from shoving you to the ground. I wanted to use my mouth on your cock until you were hard enough and then ride you until we both were screaming."

Klaus swallows harshly, the noise immensely satisfying to Caroline. He could play unaffected all he wanted to but the erection he was sporting didn't lie. He wanted her, bad.

One of his hands drops from her hips, and delves into the water. He parts he folds, and Caroline can't help the whimper that comes out when the cold water meets her hot core. Klaus fingers idly explore her sex, but he doesn't touch her where she needs it. She bites her lip against the urge to make demands, sensing it'll backfire.

When he circles her entrance for the fourth time she bucks her hips, hoping he'll take the damn hint and put his fingers inside of her already. But he drags his fingers away, leaving her to clench down on nothing, and she groans in frustration, "Seriously? Do you need a map for my lady parts? You've never had a problem before but then you do seem to be directionally challenged today."

Klaus adopts an innocent tone, "Oh, I'm sorry, love. Did you want something? You seem tense," as he's speaking he pushed her hips down to rock against his thigh.

She takes this as her cue to move, and rubs against him, taking the minimal relief the friction provides. He doesn't move to stop her and she's just letting a hand slip from the rock so she can touch her clit herself when he growls out, "Stop," and forces her hips to still.

She freezes, both in surprise and in confusion. Klaus moves her hand back to its original position, "You know I adore watching you touch yourself, love. But not today. I'm going to make you come, Caroline. Me. But you need to ask nicely."

Caroline shivers at his rough tone. Should she find this hot? Because she totally did.

"Klaus," she pleads.

He swipes a finger lightly over her clit in response, "You can do better than that, sweetheart."

"Klaus, please," she pants as he continues with the barely there brushes. "Touch me."

"I'm fairly certain that I am touching you," he tells her, bumping against her back lightly for emphasis, his tone infuriatingly reasonable.

Her fingers twitch, but she doesn't try to take matters into her own hands again. Caroline leans forward to rest her forehead against the rock in front of her. He settles his cock against her ass, with a pleased moan, seemingly perfectly content to draw this out.

She's still stubbornly silent, but he presses just the tiniest bit harder on her clit and her legs begin to quiver, "Just talk, Caroline. Tell me what you need."

"I need to come," she blurts.

"I know, love."

"I need you to make me come, Klaus. Please? Just a little more."

That seems to be what he wanted to hear, because two long fingers sink into her pussy, and the heel of his hand is pressed to her clit, "Hands behind my neck now, Caroline."

She doesn't question it, she straightens, then blindly gropes for him behind her, thrusting her breasts into the air. His free hand is on one quickly, thumb passing insistently over her nipple. "Move with me, love," Klaus rasps in her ear, "Fuck my fingers. You're going to come all over them, and then I'm going to take you from behind until you come for me again."

Caroline nods frantically, lets out a cry when he adds another finger, chases the feeling of fullness when he pulls them out. She's rocking against him mindlessly, legs shaking as her muscles coil and her orgasm builds. She shouts his name and sinks her nails into his skin when the pressure snaps, and then he's placing her forearm on the rock and bending her forward so her face rests on it. Klaus yanks one of her legs up, hooks it over his elbow and drives his cock into her.

She makes a strangled noise and he pauses. Caroline's shaking her head frantically, before he can speak, her wet hair slapping against her shoulders, "No, no. Don't stop. More," she begs.

He feels fucking amazing at this angle, and it's even better when he tugs her hair to turn her head to the side and leans over her. He sets a quick, hard rhythm, causing the water around them to slap against the rocks. She can't move much, pressed between him and the boulders, balanced on one leg as she is, but she circles her hips and tightens her inner muscles, ripping a hoarse grunt from Klaus' throat.

The fingers of his free hand shift to her clit and he she can tell he's about to come as he rubs frantically, some of his usual finesse gone. She doesn't need much, to hit a second peak, and she's calling his name and shuddering against him after just a few passes of his fingers.

He stills and groans her name, jerking against her for a few moments. They pant together, huddled against the rough stone, while their heartbeats slow. Klaus' cock slips from inside her, and Caroline can't help the little whine of protest she makes.

Klaus chuckles, and gently turns her around to face him. Caroline loops her arms around his back and nuzzles her face into his shoulder as he runs his hands along her back.

"Alright, love?" he asks.

"Mmm," Caroline hums contentedly, "I'm good."

He drops a kiss on her shoulder.

"I do have one question, though." Caroline moves back enough so they're face to face.

"Have at it."

"Were we lost?"

Klaus smiles, a touch embarrassed, "We might have been a little lost."

"Ha!" Caroline can't help but crow triumphantly, "I knew it! I knew that was the same tree!"

Klaus pulls her back to him, shuts her up by sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. She opens to him with a content little sigh, and they spend a few long minutes exchanging lazy kisses. Klaus hands are just beginning to knead her ass when she pushes him away reluctantly. "If we go for round two it'll be dark before we get out of here."

Klaus nods in acknowledgement, slowly brings his hands to more PG areas, "You're right, love."

They wade towards the bank, use Klaus' shirt to pat themselves dry, and get back into their clothes. Klaus hands her a water bottle, and a granola bar, and digs out his phone. Caroline touches his arm, "Hey, Klaus?"

He meets her eyes questioningly.

"I don't mind, you know. That we got lost."

Klaus grins, "So if I wanted to go hiking again…"

"Anytime!" Caroline chirps, leaning in to peck his lips. "Though maybe less hiking, next time. More ravaging. That was my favorite part."

Klaus catches her chin, kisses her more firmly. "Mine too," he agrees.

**THE END.**


	2. If These Walls Could Talk

**Notes:** Happy Klaroline Wednesday (it is just after midnight here) So I really am the fluffiest cheeseball imaginable, with this one. This came from one of the au prompt lists that are floating around on Tumblr. The exact prompt is buried in my likes but it's something like, "Person A and Person B share a bathroom wall. Person B always overhears person A singing, until one day they hear more than that" aka smut happens.

**If These Walls Could Talk**

**(AH-AU. Caroline and Klaus are neighbors. The building's old the walls are thin. Klaus is an accidental voyeur, at first. But then it's on purpose. Smut.)**

He's rarely awake, at 7 AM. Between the trust fund, and the decent living he makes selling paintings, Klaus is basically nocturnal. He usually sleeps from 4 AM to around noon. But he'd gotten absorbed in a piece that has been giving him trouble for weeks last night, and by the time he'd been satisfied with it, enough to walk away, and glanced at the time, he'd found it was several hours past his usual bedtime.

He'd stretched out the kinks in his back and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He can hear water running, next door. A clanking noise startles him, for a moment, before he rolls his eyes and continues prepping for bed. The building's old, the pipes terrible, and the walls thin. Klaus supposes he should thank his erratic schedule that he's rarely disturbed by the new tenant in 4B. The last couple had been awful, prone to fights at all hours, that he'd heard loud and clear.

The new woman is a lovely blonde, tall and lithe. C. Forbes, according to her mailbox. They've nodded politely to one another in passing, a few times. But he's not had the opportunity to introduce himself, in the month or so since she'd moved in.

He can hear the shower sputter, and the splashes of water hitting the porcelain of the tub that's likely identical to his. His mind wanders. Pictures her bouncy blonde curls becoming heavy with water and reaching down her back to the arse that he'd noted as being quite spectacular, having once come upon her bent over to pick up a dropped piece of mail. Klaus is stuck wondering what color her nipples would be when he hears her start to sing.

He braces himself for terrible pop music, is pleasantly surprised when instead he hears the first verse of a Beatles song. Klaus drops his toothbrush, and takes a step towards wall that divides their apartments to hear her better. He needn't have bothered, as she's cheerfully belting 'Hold Me Tight' by the time she reaches the chorus.

He continues to listen, as she finishes, then starts in on another song. Fiona Apple, this time, and the stab of arousal he feels at the sultry way she purrs out, 'I've been a bad, bad, girl…" makes him vow to learn her name as soon as fucking possible.

* * *

He manages it on Sunday. He's coming home from the mandatory brunch with his siblings that Elijah insisted he attend once a month, that Klaus habitually showed up to unshaven and underdressed, just to be contrary. Every time he could see Elijah struggle not to comment, and every time he took it as a personal victory when Elijah lost said struggle. One had to enjoy the little things.

C. Forbes is pulling groceries out of the back of her little black hatchback when he gets out of his car. He approaches, deliberately making noise, so not to startle her. Her eyes are narrowed and wary when she looks up, though her expression becomes more neutral as she seems to recognize him.

She straightens, offers him a small smile, "4A, right?"

"Right. Most people call me Klaus, though."

That causes her to raise an eyebrow, "I thought it was N. Mikaelson?"

"Studying up on me, love?" Klaus teases.

She meets his eyes, unimpressed with his first attempt at flirting, "My mother's a cop. I don't want to be one of those people on the news who's all, 'oh, but he seemed so nice!' when it turns out their neighbor was making skin suit, you know?"

Klaus can't help but laugh for a moment as she continues to stare him down, "It's Niklaus, actually. But only my mother and my older brothers use my full name."

"Oh, well then," she relaxes slightly, and holds out a hand, "I'm Caroline. Sorry I implied that you might be a serial killer."

"It's not a problem," Klaus answers, taking her hand, perhaps holding it a touch too long, "I've a sister, myself, so I understand the caution. It's a pleasure to meet you."

* * *

So her neighbor? Ridiculously hot. She'd kind of known it, of course. They'd run into each other a handful of times and she wasn't blind. Caroline had found her eyes lingering on his shoulders in the tight t-shirts he wore, wondering at the texture of his dark blonde curls. But, having only ever interacted with him briefly, she'd never really gotten the opportunity to _absorb_ his attractiveness. His mouth alone is the stuff dirty dreams are made of. The dimples, blue eyes and unexpected accent? Cherries on top of the already delicious sundae.

He offers to help her carry her groceries up. Asks all the right questions about how she'd liking Chicago, her job and her hometown.

Caroline's not too sure if he's genuinely charming or it it's her epic dry spell but the little devil on her shoulder is telling her to yank him into her apartment and shove her tongue in his mouth. It's probably the dry spell. It's been nearly a year since she broke up with Jessie, and five months since that one night stand that had ended up being colossally disappointing. So she'll listen to the little angel that's telling her he's just being neighborly and polite.

Stupid angel.

Unlocking her door she turns to relieve him of the two bags he'd carried up, "Well, Klaus. I guess I'll see you around?"

He smirks at her, walks a few steps backward until he's in front of his door, less than ten feet away, "Looks like it, love."

* * *

Caroline Forbes is a creature of habit, Klaus finds. Up by 6:45 AM, out her door at 8:30. She gets home between 6 and 8 PM. He catches her on the later days once or twice when he's taking out his trash and notes a duffle bag, so he assumes she goes to the gym, or perhaps does yoga (leading to some very inappropriate thoughts about how he'd like to test her flexibility). She grocery shops on Sunday mornings. Picks up her dry-cleaning on Thursday evenings. Has a bit of an addiction to online shopping, if the packages he sees her juggle occasionally are any indication.

He wonders about her lack of a social life. Klaus isn't much of a people person, but she strikes him as the opposite. She _is_ fairly new to the city, and she hadn't been shy about her ambitions, when she'd spoken of her career. Still, he wonders about the men (because he's not blind to the hint of lust in the appraising glances she shoots his way) of this city, that none of them seem interested in inviting such a gorgeous creature out for an evening.

Since meeting her, he's taken to drawing her, particularly fascinated by perfecting the exact pattern of the freckles on her nose. There'd been something enthralling about her, every time they've spoken. The quick comebacks, maybe, or the easy way she laughs with him. He has found himself wanting to know Caroline, for more than just a few nights, a rare thing for him indeed, that grows each time they converse.

Klaus can admit, privately, that he might be a tad infatuated.

She sings in the shower every morning, and on the evenings when she comes home closer to 8. He's not even aware that he's doing it, at first, but gradually Klaus finds himself in his bathroom, listening to her move around, closing his eyes and letting her voice wash over him, more often than not.

* * *

It's Friday evening, and her week's gone terribly. She skips the gym because she's going to make peanut butter cookies as a pick me up when she gets home, so why bother exercising? She kicks off her heels, the second she crosses the threshold, and pulls the pins out of her hair. Caroline hooks her phone up to her stereo, turns it up a bit too loud (but it's Friday, and barely 6 PM so sue her) to her sunniest playlist.

She wipes off her makeup, changes into a pair of shorts and a tank top then twists her hair up and out of the way. She's dancing to the beat in no time, mixing ingredients, when disaster strikes: she is out of eggs.

She considers running out to the store. But does she want to get dressed, and drive somewhere, for one measly egg? No, she really does not. Caroline debates scraping the cookies, but she really wants them, and would hate having to waste more than a cup of peanut butter.

Caroline's eyes catch on the wall that separates her 4B from Klaus' 4A. He'd seemed nice enough, friendly even, the few times they'd talked. Perhaps he would help her out? She'd do it for him.

With a mental shrug Caroline grabs her keys. It wouldn't hurt to ask, now would it?

* * *

The knock on the door is unexpected. Klaus severely discouraged drop in visits, though Rebekah did not seem to care, and Kol sometimes popped by purely to annoy him. He's supposed to meet Marcel at a bar downtown, in an hour, had been busy getting ready when he heard the pounding, so it won't be him.

Klaus checks the peephole, not above pretending not to be home if it's someone he doesn't want to deal with. He's surprised, and pleased, to be greeted by the sight of the neighbor that's been haunting his waking (and sleeping, to be honest) thoughts. He debates putting on a shirt, decides against it. It couldn't hurt to encourage the fact that she evidently found him appealing, at least physically, could it?

He quickly undoes the lock and throws open the door.

Caroline's mouth opens, but nothing comes out, as her eyes rake his bare torso. Her tongue peeks out, to wet her plump lower lip, and Klaus preens internally, "What can I do for you, Caroline?" he asks, when still she does not speak. Not that he'd minded the opportunity to take her in. The shorts she's wearing are very tiny, offering up miles of bare skin for his viewing pleasure, and he's fairly certain there's no bra under her loose, sleeveless shirt.

Her eyes snap up, and the tips of her ears turn bright red, "Right. Sorry. Too busy ogling you like a drooling moron. That was probably super creepy of me, wasn't it?"

Klaus shrugs, "I didn't mind, love. And I saw not a trace of drool."

Her eyes widen in shock, "Um… okay. Eggs. An egg, I mean."

"You need an egg?" Klaus asks, just to clarify.

"Yes. Just one. In return I can supply you with four of the greatest cookies you'll ever put in your mouth."

"I like the confidence. Come on in and I'll grab an egg for you."

He steps back to let her pass, but purposefully doesn't give her a lot of room, so her bare shoulder brushes the skin of his chest as she passes. Her eyes dart around the room, "Have you lived here long?" she asks.

"Three years," Klaus answers, gently grabbing her elbow to steer her towards the kitchen. There's likely an open sketchbook or two, strewn about the living room, and he'd hate to spook her if they happened to be open on an image he'd sketched of her.

She stumbles slightly, her eyes fixed on a painting on the far wall, and bumps into him, "God, you smell good," she blurts out, immediately clapping her hand over her mouth afterwards.

Klaus raises an eyebrow, "Thank you, love."

Caroline ducks her head, "Sorry! You must be about ready to file a restraining order."

"It's fine, Caroline. Really. Compliments from a beautiful woman are good for my ego, I think." And considering he regularly eavesdropped on her in the shower Klaus was quite sure she wasn't the one dipping her toes in stalkeresque behavior. But that wasn't the sort of thing you told a lady you were interested in getting to know better.

She bites her lip, "I'd tell you that I'm usually not like this but honestly my brain to mouth filter isn't the best."

"Truthfully, I'm not one for sugar coating, myself," Klaus leans in conspiratorially, "You don't know me very well, just yet, but I'm really not very nice."

"'Just yet?'" she repeats with a hint of a smile, "Now who's confident?"

* * *

The knock on her door isn't unexpected. Klaus had explained last night, that he'd been on his way out to meet a friend for drinks, and she'd told him to stop by whenever, the next day, to collect the cookies she'd promised him. Caroline Forbes honored her bargains, always. And who was she kidding? She wanted to see him. Had in fact strained her ears listening for him to come home (which he had, at around one AM) curious as to if he'd have company. He'd been alone, as far as she could tell, and she'd gone to sleep smiling.

Caroline might have gotten up a little early, to curl her hair and put on a little mascara, in preparation. And okay, the push up bra probably wasn't necessary for a lazy Saturday, either. But she'd noted his preoccupation with her assets last night, and it couldn't hurt to make the most of them. She's fairly certain he'd answered the door half-naked yesterday for much the same reason.

And hey, the added detail the tattoos had brought to her dreams of him underneath her, and in her bed, had been much appreciated.

She's resolved to flirt, and flirt hard. He'd mentioned last night that he's an artist, most productive in the wee hours. Given how infrequently she'd seen him around, Caroline's fairly certain she can avoid him like the plague if she crashes and burns. But her gut's telling her he's receptive, and the way he makes her body hum with his voice and his smell and his proximity has her thinking that her dry spell's about to be broken in a spectacular fashion.

Checking to make sure it's him, she opens the door with a smile, "Hey, Klaus. Come on in."

"Thank you," he replies and surveys her place in much the same way as she probably had upon entering his space last night. "You've done a lot with the place," he noted. "Considering you've only lived here, what? Two months?"

"Just about," Caroline agreed, "I'm not really the type that can leave things half unpacked. I was pretty much done within three days."

He grins at her, like he finds that endearing and not terrifying. Another point in his 'pro' column.

"How was your night, last night?" Caroline asks, hoping she doesn't sound like she's fishing for information. She grabs the Tupperware container that holds the cookies and leads him towards the couch. She tucks one leg underneath her and sits so she's facing him.

"It was fine. Nothing exciting."

"Meet anyone interesting?" she prods, cringing internally because that was the opposite of subtlety.

Klaus accepts a cookie, chews thoughtfully and swallows before answering, "At the bar? No. Marcel was quite put out with me, truth be told. Said that I was a miserable failure as a wingman."

Caroline giggles, "I find that hard to believe."

"And why's that, love?"

Caroline leans her head to the side, lets her eyes wander his body in a slow appreciative perusal, "Well, not to make you think I'm creepy, again…"

"I never thought you were," Klaus interjects.

"But you're really hot. And this is America. The accent alone boosts your scoring power, even if the package _wasn't_ quite so appealing."

Klaus nods seriously, though his eyes remain mischievous, "That's quite true. And I cannot lie, I've used it to my advantage, a time or two…"

"I'll bet," Caroline says archly.

"But I just couldn't find it in myself to feign interest in any of the women who approached me, last night."

"Oh?" Caroline wonders, "And why was that?"

"Because of you, Caroline."

Caroline can't stop the harsh breath that she sucks in.

"Would you go to dinner, with me, tonight?" he asks, catching her gaze.

Wow. When her instincts were right, they were really, really right. She's nodding, before she even really decides to accept, "I'd like that," she tells him.

He grabs her arm, kisses the back of her hand, like this is one of those cheesy romance novels she's got stuffed under her bed. Though the wicked little rasp of tongue between her knuckles affects her far more strongly than written words ever had, "Good," Klaus replies simply, "I'll pick you up at 7."

* * *

Klaus makes reservations at his favorite Italian restaurant. He hadn't thought to ask her if she had any preferences but he figures just about everyone likes pasta. He decides to shave (his inner Elijah railing at him to look presentable, for a lady he intended to woo). He hears the water start up at Caroline's place, and cannot help the smile that spreads across his face. He waits for her voice to start up, is surprised when it doesn't. He doesn't hear the banging that indicated she's engaged the shower head, either.

He continues to lather his face, idly listening out of habit. Eventually he hears the squeak of Caroline turning off her taps. He hears water moving, and it takes a second for it to register that she must've run a bath.

She's quiet, and Klaus misses her singing. He's bringing the razor up, and then he hears a noise, that is unmistakably a moan. His hand jerks, and he nicks his chin. He bites the inside of his cheek to force the curse that wants to come out down. Klaus is under no illusions that he won't have to confess to his habit of listening to her shower, but he wants her to be a little more invested in him before that happens.

A slightly louder moan comes from the other side of the wall and his fists clench.

If he were a gentleman, he'd leave the room, but Klaus wasn't kidding when he told her he wasn't a nice guy. He grabs a chunk of toilet paper to stop the bleeding, and climbs into his bathtub to get closer to the wall.

Pressing his ear to the tile he can hear the water moving, and his very vivid imagination conjures a picture of her in the tub, one long leg hooked over the edge, one hand tugging on a nipple, the other working between her thighs. Another moan, a harshly panted sobbing breath and a murmured, 'Oh, god," have him palming the erection that's now demanding attention.

He can't hear much, for a few seconds, just the water lapping, though he thinks it's more rapid. Finally, there's a distinct splash and she says, "Fuck, Klaus!" and his brain shorts out because he's fairly certain she'd just come, and it had been his name on her lips when she had.

Klaus is stepping out of the tub and wiping the shaving cream off his face, as soon as he can think again. He yanks open the drawer he stashes condoms in and grabs several. Fuck dinner, they could order in.

Later. Much later.

* * *

Caroline is rudely yanked from a delightful post orgasm haze (the waterproof vibrator might have been a gag, 'sorry about your breakup!' gift from Kat, but it had turned out to be pretty awesome, and useful) by an insistent banging on her front door. She groans, sinks her ears under the water, and hopes whoever it is will go away. She's seriously considering a second round.

When she emerges, a few minutes later, the knocker is persisting. With a few muttered expletives she wrings out her hair and throws on a robe, fully intending to make whoever interrupted her 'me' time suffer if what they wanted wasn't life and death.

"What?" she snaps when she yanks open the door. Caroline briefly registers that it's Klaus, with some surprise. He's wild-eyed and there's a streak of shaving cream on his jaw but he's got his hands in her hair and his mouth pressed to hers before she can ask him what's wrong.

There's no gentle teasing, no asking for permission, in this kiss. He angles her head how he wants it and he plunders, walking her backwards into her apartment and kicking the door shut behind him. Caroline clutches his forearms, and fights to keep up.

They stumble into the arm of her couch, and he tears his mouth away, only to work his way down her neck, sucking and biting and licking until her mind is spinning.

She shifts around the edge, and sits, ungracefully, and Klaus follows her down, urging her to lie back and settling himself between her thighs. Her eyes pop open, feeling how hard he is, when he rubs against her. She hitches one leg over his hip and rocks herself against him, still sensitive from her solo play in the bathtub, and he immediately grinds back.

Klaus is kissing down her sternum, the v of her robe barely covering her breasts, "Klaus," she gasps, finally finding her words, "wait."

He stills above her, tenses like he means to push off, but she grabs his neck and uses her leg to keep him in place, "No. Not wait like, stop. Wait like, why?"

He relaxes against her slightly, hauls himself up to kiss her again, slowly this time. Her lips cling to his, she moans when he disengages, "I heard you," he tells her, "just now. In the bathtub."

And that was super mortifying. Caroline turns her face away from him, but he nudges her chin back, forcing her eyes to meet his, "You've nothing to be ashamed of, love. I shouldn't have intruded, but the walls are paper thin. I heard you say my name and I just couldn't wait. I had to touch you."

"Oh," Caroline says, dumbfounded.

"I've been listening to you sing, for weeks now."

"Oh no," she sighs, closing her eyes in embarrassment.

"Oh yes. It's why I decided I had to know your name, actually."

Caroline can't help but look at him, at that. He's got a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and his eyes are soft and lit with an affection that makes her heart beat a bit faster, "Seriously?" she can't help but say, skeptically.

He nods, "It's why I helped you with your bags that day."

Caroline considers him for a long moment, runs her nails lightly down the back of his neck, feels the shiver of pleasure he's helpless to hide. Oh, it was going to be good between them. "Okay, don't think we're not going to have a conversation about boundaries, at some point. A girl needs so have some secrets. And I'm pretty sure some reciprocity is required here."

"You want to listen to me wank in the bath?" Klaus asks in disbelief.

"I want to watch you," Caroline corrects him, delighting in the little flicker of interest that crosses his face, "the bath part's optional."

"Anytime, sweetheart," Klaus says lowly.

Caroline nods, in mock seriousness, "Alright then. Carry on."

Klaus takes her seriously and has her robe open in no time, his tongue wrapped around a nipple. He brings a hand up to play with the other, and Caroline arches her back in a wordless demand for more, her hands fisting in the back of his shirt. She tugs on it, and he takes the hint, rising to his knees to pull it off. She sits up to shrug off her robe and lies back down.

He watches her for a few minutes, eyes devouring her bare body. She stretches her arms above her head with a smirk, "Well? You barged in here. Let's get this show on the road."

He pushes one of her legs off the couch and has a hand on her pussy immediately. Caroline moans, makes a mental note that taunting him has very favorable outcomes. Klaus strokes her clit gently, then with purpose as she writhes beneath him on the couch.

She's very wet, and it has little to do with the bath she'd emerged from not too long ago, so his fingers sink into her easily and his groan echoes hers as he moves his fingers. She chases them when they leave her, and brings her hands up to cup her breasts. His blue eyes are dark and measuring as he watches her heatedly and she quickly grows impatient when he shows no inclination to move things along, just keeps her on the quivering edge.

With one last impatient groan she rears up, surprising him, and climbs into his lap, pushing him back against the arm of the couch, "I'm done with the teasing, Klaus."

Caroline sits back on his thighs, kisses down his chest and abdomen as she goes for his belt. She fumbles with the buttons of his fly when she looks up to see him sucking her arousal off of his fingers, "Condom?" she demands.

"Pocket," he supplies, and perhaps she'll forgive the torturous build up since he came prepared.

She grasps the foil packet, he helps her get his jeans down, and she can feel him kicking them off. She puts the condom between her teeth and wraps her hand around his cock, strokes him firmly, because payback's a bitch.

His head tips back against the couch, and she leans down to trace a tendon with her tongue and teeth. The strangled groan of her name, and the way he twitches underneath her are intensely satisfying. But she wants him inside of her so she rips open the condom and he helps her roll it on.

She leans forward, rising on her knees, and grips the back of the couch. She places him at her opening and slides down his cock, slowly.

He grips her hips, so tightly she might have bruises tomorrow, his entire body taut.

She smiles down at him, throws her head back on a sigh when he's buried all the way inside of her. He feels incredible, and she's kind of kicking herself for not jumping his bones weeks ago when they'd first been introduced.

"Caroline," Klaus pants, "move."

She gives an experimental circle of her hips, before rising and sinking back down. She's the one that moans this time, and when he slides his hand up her thigh and begins to rub her clit, she's the one calling his name and asking for more.

They move together like they've done this a dozen times, and his mouth is on her breasts again in no time. She runs her hands through his hair, chases her release, eventually losing her rhythm as her entire body tenses and she lets go. Klaus has her, though, his hands on her back keeping her steady as he pumps into her a few more times and before he gasps her name and comes.

Klaus falls back onto her couch boneless, pulling her to sprawl against his side. He reaches over his head, fumbles for the box of tissues and deals with the condom. He wraps his arms around her and plays with her hair as their breathing returns to normal.

Caroline props her chin up on his chest, "So does this mean we're not going out for dinner?"

Klaus laughs softly, "Up to you, love. If we hurry we can still make our reservation."

"Hmm," Caroline pretends to think about it, "How about we take a nap, order a pizza to refuel, and then I give you a tour of the rest of my apartment?"

"Sounds perfect," Klaus agrees, pulling the throw blanket from the back of the couch down to cover them.

**THE END.**


	3. Lather, Rinse, Repeat

**Notes:** I was browsing **otpprompts** on tumblr and came across one I liked and then this happened. It might be the smuttiest one yet? I can't tell anymore. But hey, at least I freak out way less about posting the smutty stuff. These are meant to be quick and fun, so I don't edit quite so painstakingly. Hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**Lather, Rinse, Repeat**

**(Prompt: **Person A is planning to take a shower but Person B steals it from them at the last second. Person A threatens to join them if Person B doesn't give up the shower. Person B thinks they're bluffing. It turns out that they're not. Smut.)****

There are those days, when every single thing that can go wrong, does go wrong. Those days suck. And Caroline was having one. Her alarm hadn't gone off, because her stupid phone somehow wasn't properly plugged in to the stupid charger when she'd gone to bed last night. Rushing to get dressed she'd popped the button off of one of her favorite blouses, and would have to remember to fish it out from under the bed, at some point. She didn't have time to shower and the bun she'd wrangled her hair into was leaning towards librarianesque – and not in a sexy way. In a thick pantyhose, calf length skirt (ew) and wearing glasses on a chain around your neck, sort of way. And that was all before she'd even made it out of her bedroom.

Which is not to say that things improved, at that point. She'd been greeted by the current occupant of the guest room, Rebekah's irritating older brother, upon entering the kitchen. At the sight of his sleep rumpled curls, and unshaven jaw she'd cursed herself for caving to Rebekah's pleas and letting Klaus stay with them until he found his own place. She was so not in the mood to be polite and his, "Good morning, love," received only the barest acknowledgement.

She went to pour herself a bowl of cereal, only to find that he had finished all the milk (and put the carton back in the fridge. Not cool!). He'd watched her, from his spot at the breakfast bar (with _his_ nearly finished breakfast), while she'd flitted about the kitchen, trying to scrape together a meal. He'd been shirtless (why did the universe inevitably make guys who were off-limits, not to mention contrary assholes, super hotties? It was so unfair) distracting tattoos and necklaces in plain view. He'd been smirking, entirely too amused with her frazzled state. He'd wished her a good day, and she (with her too brown banana and handful of grapes) had been sorely tempted to flip him off.

Things had continued to go downhill at a rate that was both alarming at impressive once she'd left the apartment. Her day at work? Like one of the crappier circles of hell. Thank god it was Friday

She'd gone to the gym, hoping to work out some of her aggravation. And she had, a little. Until discovering, after opening her locker, that the bottle of shampoo she kept on the top shelf had somehow tipped, and leaked all over her clothes.

So she'd been stuck walking home in her grungy workout clothes, still a sweaty mess, because it just seemed ickier to wiggle back into damp lycra after showering at the gym. There was even shampoo in her shoes and the squishy sensation as she walked was really unpleasant. Caroline was more than ready for the day to end. Bekah wouldn't be home, as she and Marcel had flown out the previous evening, to visit his family in New Orleans for the long weekend. Caroline was crossing her fingers that Klaus had found something else to occupy him for the evening and she's be able to veg on the couch with a pint of Haagen Dazs in peace. After a long, hot shower (and possibly some quality, stress busting, time with the removable shower head), of course.

But of course, that's not how no good, terrible, very bad days go.

"You look terrible," is the oh so flattering greeting she receives from Klaus as she enters the apartment. He's in the living room, but has turned around to peer at her over the back of the couch.

"You know," Caroline replies, trying to keep her tone conversational, "Some people may say that the accent makes everything sound charming but pro tip? That was not."

Klaus has the nerve to laugh at that, like she'd been joking, "I'll take that under advisement."

"You do that," Caroline mutters. Klaus stands, tosses the notebook he'd probably been drawing in, if she's learned his habits, onto the coffee table. He's still not wearing a shirt. Seriously, did he even get dressed today?

She eyes the bare expanse of skin pointedly, realizes after a few moments that he'll probably take it the wrong way, and so looks back at his face. Sure enough he's got a knowing look in his eyes and could the man be any vainer? It's a very pretty package, Caroline will admit (silently, to herself), but a little humility never killed anyone. "How goes the apartment hunt?" she asks.

"Well enough," he replies vaguely. "I'm supposed to meet Stefan for drinks. Do you want to come?"

"Nope. I fully intend to become one with that couch tonight. I don't want to see people, I don't want to talk to people. I just want to watch bad reality TV and eat my feelings."

"Bad day?" he inquires.

"The worst," Caroline confirms. She spins on her heel and heads to her bedroom, not waiting to see if he has anything else to say. Rude? Probably. But he deserved it for his little crack when she walked in the door. Gathering her towels, Caroline makes for the bathroom, turns on the shower. A quick glance in the mirror tells her Klaus wasn't lying about how she looked. But still, if you don't have something nice to say, just shut up. She's pulled off the pink tank she'd been wearing, and is just about to start stripping off her sports bra, when she remembers her work clothes (including a Miu Miu skirt that she'd got at a crazy discount) are saturated with shampoo in her gym bag. She really should rinse them out.

With a frustrated sigh she leaves the bathroom. She's gone for two minutes, tops, before she returns, and finds that Klaus has entered the room, and is testing the temperature of the water (of her shower!) with his hand, "Um, excuse you? Occupied. Did you think a ghost turned on the water? You've been here for like a month. Pretty sure you'd have noticed a poltergeist by now."

Klaus turns to look at her, and it's his turn to ogle the expanse of skin left bare between the bottom of her bra and the waistband of her leggings.

Caroline crosses her arm and taps her foot, when he meets her eyes again he looks a touch sheepish, but he quickly covers it with his usual layer of cockiness, "Come now, love. Surely I, as the guest, should get priority. You're from Virginia, are you not? I was led to believe that hospitality is important, in the south."

"We're not in the south. So scram."

"I'll be quick. You know how Stefan gets about tardiness."

"One: I'm sure you _would_ be quick," Caroline punctuates the jab with a mocking, and obvious, glance at his crotch. "Two, I don't care. I repeat: get out."

Klaus raises a challenging eyebrow, and undoes his belt.

"What are you doing?" Caroline asks, indignant.

"What does it look like? I'm showering."

Klaus pants fall to the floor and he kicks them aside.

Caroline feels her mouth fall open as she stares at him in disbelief. She's not complaining about the view, because she's sure the image of him in those tight charcoal boxer briefs will be very helpful later, but she can't believe the nerve of him. Forcing her mouth closed, she glares at him. Two can play at that game. First, she pulls the elastic out of her hair, shaking her disheveled blonde curls out until they lay about her shoulders. Then she tugs the sports bra over her head.

She can see him fight with himself, his gaze remains glued to her face for several long seconds, before they drift down and lock onto her bared breasts. His gaze heats, and the way he licks his lower lip sends a pang of arousal to her core. Damn it. She would not let him win.

He meets her eyes again, and his hands go to the waistband of his boxer briefs. Caroline opens her mouth, to say what, she has no idea, but nothing comes out because in the next instant his boxer briefs are also in a pile on the floor. She's kind of embarrassed that she doesn't have his willpower, because there is no way she could have stopped her eyes from darting down. He's half hard from their little game, and Caroline's palms itch with the urge to touch. This day is definitely looking up.

He lets her look her fill, unashamed, before he turns and opens the shower door. And yes, his ass is every bit as nice as the well fitted jeans he favors have led her to believe.

There's a tinge of triumph on his face, when he closes the glass door between them and that just will not stand.

She turns, as if she's going to leave, but looks at him over her shoulder. Making sure his eyes are on her she bends at the waist and peels her leggings and panties down her legs. She pauses, allows him a good long leer, doesn't think she imagines the moan he lets out. She straightens, stalks towards the shower, and lets herself in. Klaus takes a short step back to let her.

"You've got a bajillion siblings. I'm sure you're good at sharing, aren't you?" Caroline taunts.

Klaus swallows visibly and his voice is gravelly when he speaks, "You're welcome to find out, love."

"Happy to," Caroline responds, keeping her tone light and suggestive, "now let me get wet." She pushes past him, purposefully brushing her hardened nipples (because he wasn't the only one who'd been enjoying this) against his arm and ducks under the spray. She keeps her back to him as she shampoos, feels the warmth of him scant inches from her back, only turning towards him when she's ready to rinse. Klaus is watching her avidly, and Caroline can see that he's tense, as she eyes him, notes that he's fully erect with a slow glance down. She meets his gaze evenly, wondering if he'll touch her, make a move to push this beyond two acquaintances sharing a shower. Caroline wouldn't object. This little stand-off is proving to be highly stimulating, and heat and wetness have steadily built between her thighs. She wants to press herself against him and kiss him until they're both gasping but she refrains.

She's going to make Klaus crack first. She didn't win the shower, but she's going to win this.

She tips her head back to rinse, arching her back more than is strictly necessary. Caroline takes her time, working the suds out of her long hair. She notes that Klaus' eyes have darkened, and she thinks his breath is coming a little faster, once she opens her eyes. With a smile, she snatches up her conditioner and body wash and slides around him again, making more contact than she need to in the roomy shower. "Your turn," she tells him. His eyelids flutter and his jaw clenches at the slide of her slick skin against his.

Oh yeah. Team Caroline's taking this one home.

He pivots with her, but doesn't turn away as she had. He continues watching her as she works conditioner in and piles her hair on top of her head to let it sink in. Caroline briefly debates her loofah, but decides using her hands to spread bodywash over herself will be more effective in her plan to break Klaus.

Caroline pretends to be completely unaware of his hungry eyes raking over her body, as she pours a healthy dollop in her palm. She lathers her arms, then her stomach, feels him drifting closer. She bites the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Men, so easy. She's barely cupped her breast when he's crowding her back against the shower wall with a groan. He pins her hands at her sides, "You're playing with fire, Caroline."

Caroline can't help but roll her eyes, because as lines went, that was kind of terrible, "Good thing we're in the shower then."

Klaus kisses her, his mouth demanding, and kind of perfect. His hands release hers to span her waist. She buries hers in his hair, rising up on her toes to nip his full lower lip and suck it into her mouth. His grip tighten on her skin, and he meets her challenge, their tongues tangling until she has to pull away, "I thought you had to meet Stefan?" Caroline reminds him, panting slightly.

"Fuck Stefan," Klaus replies immediately, breathing no less harshly than hers.

"Gross," Caroline can't help but grimace.

She can feel him shake with a quiet laugh as he dips his head to taste her throat, "That's a bit mean, love. But I wasn't speaking literally."

Caroline tips her head to the side encouragingly, because the contrast between the suction of his mouth and the rasp of his stubble is more than nice. "I'm not actually a dumb blonde, so I got that. But he's expecting you."

Klaus pulls back enough so that they're nearly nose to nose, "If you'd like to back out, pretend this never happened, you can just say so, Caroline."

How dense could he be? "Seriously?" she blurts in disbelief. "What part of following you into the shower and shoving my boobs in your face says I'm not onboard with this?"

"You're sure?"

Caroline heaves an exasperated sigh. His hesitation was kind of sweet, but come on. "Yep. Totally sure. But if you're not I can just go with my original plan to relax, which was getting off with that shower head."

Klaus' head swivels to the side and his eyes lock on to the shower head briefly, "And now I'm never going to be able to take a shower in here without thinking of that."

"Well, if you found your own apartment…"

Klaus kisses her again, lets his hands slip from her hips to squeeze her ass, "I am working on it sweetheart, don't you worry."

One of his hands slips lower, dipping between her thighs and she so wants him to continue, but she makes herself think practically, pushing him back slightly, "Wait. Shower sex is hot in theory, but I'm not up for a trip to the E.R. And you need to text Stefan so he doesn't come over looking for you. And I need to rinse my hair."

He gives her a look, clearly trying to see if she means it. Finding that she does he gets out of the shower with a grumble, and swipes a towel, "Fine. But hurry, love."

"Meet me in my bedroom!" Caroline calls to his retreating back, ducking under the water again.

* * *

Caroline is unable to stop herself from humming as she hustles through the rest of her shower. Her evening (hell, her weekend, hopefully) is definitely looking up. She deals with her hair first, then grabs her razor to clean up the necessary areas, now that someone will be getting up close and personal with them. She hastily rinses out her clothes and throws them over top of the shower to dry. Patting herself down, she debated putting on the robe that's hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It's mint green terrycloth – doesn't exactly scream 'fuck me.'

Well, she hasn't gotten this far by being shy. So she skips it, leaves her towel hanging in the bathroom, and walks into her bedroom without a stich to cover her. She has a hunch that Klaus has skills in the bedroom, she's seen him dance, and there's something about his hands that's caused her mind to wander to what her could do with them, a time or two. But if she's wrong, she's still determined to have a good time, so she's going to take the lead. Hopefully he can take direction better than some of the guys she'd encountered in the past.

Klaus is standing in the center of the room, his back to her, towel around his waist, his hands held awkwardly at his sides. He turns to face her, hearing the slap of her feet on the hardwood floor. He looks almost unsure, and Caroline finds it kind of endearing. He's usually so confident, bordering on arrogant, and she likes that she can unsettle him.

His lips part as he takes in her lack of clothes but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. Continuing to walk, until she's right up against him, his eyes fall to lock on her bouncing breasts. Caroline slips one finger under the edge of the towel, where it's knotted, and it's on the floor with one quick jerk. She keeps moving, propelling him towards the bed, her hands exploring the muscles of his chest and stomach. He sits abruptly when he legs hit the mattress, and she drops to her knees in front of him. His erection has flagged a bit, and she runs her fingers along its length teasingly, causing him to let out a hiss. She wraps her hand around the base, looks up at him from under her lashes, before dipping her head to engulf the head of his cock in her mouth. His eyes squeeze shut and he growls, "Fuck, Caroline!"

She wants to smile, but settles for letting out a pleased hum around his length, causing him to let out another rough moan. She bobs up and down for a few moments before she pulls back with a hard suck, and waits for him to look at her.

His eyes blink open, and his chest is definitely rising more quickly, "So, here's the deal," Caroline begins conversationally, using her arm to nudge his legs a little wider so she can use her hand to stimulate his balls. The strangled groan he lets out as she rolls them gently isn't exactly an acknowledgement of what she just said, but she'll take it. "One night stands? Hit and miss, in my experience. Sometimes the guy isn't super interested in getting you off. Sometimes he just can't figure it out, and you don't really know him so you feel weird about telling him what to do, so you just fake it, you know?"

Klaus looks bewildered, and she probably shouldn't be having this conversation while pumping his cock, but honestly, flustering him like this is seriously turning her on.

"But I've known you for years, and your ego's big enough to handle it if I tell you you're rubbing my clit too hard, right?"

He nods at that, beginning to pant, "Good. So you tell me what you like, I'll tell you what I want, and we both win. Deal?"

"Deal, sweetheart," he manages, voice hoarse.

"Awesome. I have an IUD, can I assume you're clean? Remember, I know where you live, and I'll be seriously pissed if there's anything starts to burn down there."

"I am."

Caroline nods decisively, "Now, I'm cool with a little hair pulling, but if you do that thing where you try to push my head down I will not be held responsible for crushing anything delicate that happens to be in my hands," she warns with a gentle squeeze to his balls for emphasis, "Also, I'm fine with swallowing but a little warning's always appreciated."

Klaus nods, his eyes pleading, and lets a hand come up to thread in her damp hair.

Caroline takes the hint, and bends down to lick along the underside of his cock. She lets the tip of him rest on her lower lip and looks up at him expectantly, "Suck," he tells her, and it's comes out a little questioning, but he's getting the idea. So she takes him into her mouth, sliding down and sucking as she draws back, working until she can take him deeper. She swallows around him after a few passes and he moans her name again, punctuating it with a little tug on her hair that has her moaning around him in response. He swears harshly, his free hand clenched in a death grip on the edge of the mattress and the muscles on his stomach clenched tight. She can tell he's close, tastes the precum that's been leaking steadily from the tip of him, so Caroline's surprised when he pulls her off of him and grips her upper arms to haul her to her feet.

He smashes his mouth to hers, licking frantically inside, and all she can do is sway into him with a moan of surprise while his tongue chases hers. She pulls back with a pout, "I wasn't finished."

"Later, love. I'm a gentleman, so it'll be ladies first."

"Oh really?" Caroline says, feeling her eyebrows shoot up.

"Yes really. And if you think we're leaving this bed this weekend for anything other than food and water, maybe another shower, you're quite wrong."

"I was kind of hoping things would go that way, not going to lie. Although I feel like we should take advantage of the empty apartment. I've never done it in the kitchen."

"I think I can handle that," Klaus agrees, letting his hands slide down her spine to clutch her ass. He gives her a rough squeeze that sends another rush of wetness to her pussy, "Now get on the bed and spread your legs."

* * *

Later, and Caroline has no idea how _much_ later, but it seems to be dark outside, she's waiting for her heartbeat to slow. Taking a shower had turned out to be kind of pointless, because Klaus apparently believed in ladies first _and_ second, and she's just as hot and sweaty as she had been post-gym. Far less tense, though.

She rolls her head to the side to look at Klaus, who's propped on his elbow, watching her, looking distinctly pleased with himself. She'd be annoyed, ordinarily, but he'd more than earned it this time. Natural talent plus a willingness to follow instructions? Give the man all of the gold stars.

His hair is hopelessly mussed from her hands and, with a glance down his body, she notes that his cock is still rock hard. She rolls to face him, "I think it's your turn to make requests. How do you want me?"

"Just to clarify, I do believe the next _two_ turns are mine."

Caroline rolls her eyes, trust him to nitpick at a time like this, "Yes, fine."

"Glad you agree. Now, sit up please."

She complies, and glances back over her shoulder to see him following suit, and then arranging himself behind her, leaning back slightly against the headboard with a pillow stuffed behind him, "I want you to sit in my lap."

Not too outlandish, as far as positions went. She crawls towards him, and is about to straddle him when he shakes his head, "With your back to me, sweetheart."

Klaus helps her, his hands gentle, and she ends up settled between his thighs, his cock hot and hard against the small of her back, as she reclines against him. He gathers her hair over one shoulder, and begins to run open mouthed kisses along the bared side of her neck, "Technically speaking, I'm not in your lap," Caroline points out.

He smiles against her skin, "All in good time."

His hands skate up her ribs, until they're both cupping her breasts, and Caroline has to hold in the laugh that wants to erupt. She'd thought she'd noted his interest in this particular part of her anatomy (she'd only managed to put her bra on first thing in the morning for like the first three days of his extended stay before deciding that she really didn't care that much) but it's always nice to have one's suspicions confirmed.

She doesn't feel like laughing for long as his long, calloused fingers are soon plucking at her nipples in a way that has her squirming. She rubs her thighs together to stem the ache that's beginning to build again, when he gives his next instruction, "Knees up, put your feet outside of my legs."

Caroline does like he asks, because a deal is a deal, and because the low, commanding tone promises good things to come. He brings his legs up under hers, leaving her thighs spread wide as his hands shift down to span her hips. One arm bands around her as the other shifts to grasp his cock. She presses her hands into the bed to lift herself up, and soon he's in place and she's sinking down, clenching him greedily inside her pussy. He groans, his head thunking back against the headboard, "See? In my lap."

Caroline does laugh then, though it's more of a breathless wheeze. She circles her hips, though his hold on her makes it impossible for her to shift up and down like she wants to, "Yes, clearly you showed me." Klaus hums an agreement, but doesn't start moving, and she can't help but wiggle restlessly again, "Well?" she prompts.

He tucks his chin over her shoulder, removes one of his hands from her breasts to tug her thigh up higher, exposing her more fully. He lets his palm graze her skin idly on the way back up, and she's holding her breath as it heads to the apex of her thighs but he passes by with barely a brush of his fingers to her dripping core. Caroline just barely holds in a frustrated whine, "How do you not want to come? You've been hard for ages."

He continues to tug at her nipples with his free hand, heightening her arousal, "There's something to be said for anticipation, love," Klaus murmurs in her ear, "Have you not noticed me watching you? Did you think it was coincidental, that I was always in the kitchen when you emerged from your bedroom, in the scraps of clothing you consider pajamas, in the morning? I've been thinking of this for weeks."

Caroline twists slightly to look at him, shudders at the sensation his cock shifting inside of her sends shooting through her body, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It seemed like a bad idea to ask you to dinner while we were cohabitating. But I signed a lease this afternoon."

"Well, congratulations. Does this mean you're going to ask me out?"

"Later, sweetheart. Once I've proven why you should say yes."

She's about to point out that the two times she'd come in his mouth were pretty damn convincing, but he takes the opportunity to grasp her hips and work her up and down his cock, and the words she was forming come out as an unintelligible whimper. She uses her feet, still planted on the bed to rock against him, and the tension quickly coils in her belly, he pauses and she moans a protest. Klaus grabs one of her hands, draws it down between her thighs, "Touch yourself, Caroline. Show me how you like it."

She's nodding against him, circling her clit with her fingers almost before he's finished speaking. She can feel him breathing harshly against his neck, and can see, from the corner of her eye, that he's watching her fingers raptly. He's speeding up, jerking her hips down more harshly. Her thighs begin to quiver, she knows they'll be sore tomorrow, from how widely they're parted, but she can't bring herself to care.

"That's it, sweetheart," he mutters in her ear, "come for me." She's almost there, so she rubs faster, and more intently, and is trembling, falling apart and calling his name after only a few direct passes over her nub.

He follows her, after a few more deep thrusts, and a guttural groan.

She feels him soften inside of her, and he helps her move off of him. Caroline flops onto her stomach with a moan, stretching her legs out behind her. He slumps down to a prone position, and Caroline is gratified to find him as flushed as she must be.

"Between the bike at the gym and this I might not be able to walk tomorrow."

Klaus laughs, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You won't be laughing when I'm demanding you draw me a bath."

"That would depend on if you think bath sex is just as dangerous as shower sex."

"In theory? No. You can't exactly fall down and crack your head open if you're already sitting. But I've never tried it."

"Something we'll have to rectify, then."

Her eyes are beginning to feel heavy, "I know you have another round to direct, but I think I need a catnap first."

She catches the smirk that crosses his face before her eyes begin to drift close. Klaus rolls towards her, and she turns on her side to allow him to pull her back into his chest, "Sleep a bit, love. Then we'll eat, and I've some excellent ideas for the kitchen island."

**THE END.**

* * *

**More Notes:** I stand by what I said about shower sex (be careful, kids. Have plenty of grippy things on the floor of the tub if you're gonna try it out), though it does come up in one of my other stories shortly. I figure it's less risky for vampires/hybrids. Also, I read a study last year that says women are less likely to achieve orgasm during a one night stand than with a long term partner, and the reasons I mentioned were some of the theories as to why, hence Caroline's 'my way or the highway' attitude ;). Thanks for reading!


	4. never asked me once

**Notes:** For Klaroline Wednesday! Cleaned up slightly from the version I posted on Tumblr. Title's from 'Work Song' by Hozier which I've been obsessed with lately. I suspect how things go down in canon is going to upset me, so here's a quick little take on what Caroline was up to when she was absent last episode.

**never asked me once about the wrong I did**

**(Prompt: ****Overwhelmed with over flipping the switch and causing damage, Caroline leaves Mystic Falls and finds herself feeling lost and alone. She calls Klaus. How does it go down? What does she say? Rated K.**)**  
**

She's going to need gas soon.

Caroline's just been driving, putting miles of highway between her and home and all of the things that she's done. It'll be the third full tank she's compelled herself. She can't bring herself to feel guilty about stealing from big oil when it's her fault that people are dead.

When there are parents or children or spouses agonizing over floral arrangements and epitaphs right now, because of her.

They've had to push through the shock of loved ones takes suddenly and too soon. And they'll have to deal with their grief because Caroline couldn't handle hers. So much for being strong.

She shakes herself, tries to force her brain to quiet but it's too late. Full of light. Those words, spoken in _his_ accent, flutter through her mind clear as a bell.

God, if only. She feels tainted and weak and so, so stupid.

Caroline takes the next exit, there's a Shell Station advertised a couple of miles out.

She gases up, and helps herself to all the junk food her heart desires. Peanut butter snickers won't help, but they can't really hurt at this point either. Caroline parks in the little rest station and sits on the hood of her car.

Calling him right now would be a dick move, since she's the one who told him to go. But she needs something, someone, who would be there for her, if only just for a minute, without judgement.

Her usual options are out. Elena's never been particularly good at nonjudgmental. Bonnie might try, but Caroline doesn't want to add to the burdens Bon's been carrying since she's returned to the real world. Damon's never really cared about her. Matt and Tyler won't want anything to do with her, not that she can blame them. Not after what she did.

And Stefan? That's not a can of worms she wants to deal with just yet. Not until she's sorted out her feelings. Were they real? Or did she just need something safe to latch on to when things were falling apart? Caroline won't contact him until she knows. It's not fair to him.

She stares at her phone, _his_ name stark and all she can focus on, tapping every time the screen dims, for a long time. Her battery life drains 11 percent. Finally, with one last deep breath, she makes the call.

It rings and it rings and she's just about to hang up when the line clicks, "Caroline?" Klaus asks, his tone strained with disbelief.

"Hi, Klaus." Caroline answers than falters, unsure of what she wants to say. Of what she wants, period.

"How are you doing, love?" The question comes out formal, and unsure. Something she'd seen from Klaus a few times, though she suspects that's something of a privilege.

It makes her laugh, the question. Not in true amusement, but because if she doesn't she's pretty sure she'll burst into tears.

"My mom's dead. I turned it off. Everyone hates me. I killed people."

She hears a harsh intake of breath from across the line, "I'm sorry about your mother, Caroline."

Tears spring to her eyes, and her voice is shaky as she thanks him.

"What do you need?" Klaus asks next, and her grip tightens on her phone. This is why she called him. She doesn't want assurances, not right now. She's killed people, but she knows he won't care about that. She doesn't want him to rescue her, to tell her that everything will be okay. Because it won't be, and she needs to rescue herself.

"I need to be away from home. I need to be by myself, and I need to think."

"Where are you?"

"God, I'm not even sure. Missouri? Maybe Nebraska."

"I've a place in Wyoming I bought after I broke the curse. It's remote, bordered by forest. Would that suit you?"

Caroline lets out the breath she'd not been aware she's been holding. A tiny part of her had half expected him to tell her he was too busy, that he had no time for her petty problems. She's relieved and grateful that he's still willing to come through for her, "That sounds perfect, Klaus. Thank you."

"I'll text you the location. Your car won't get you there, not on the trails that lead in. I'll arrange for a rental vehicle suitable for off road conditions as well."

She's at a loss for what to say, for how to express what this means to her. Another thank you seems paltry but it's all that she has.

"You're welcome, Caroline."

There's silence on the line, Caroline listens to him breathe, reluctant to hang up, She thinks he's doing the same thing. "Maybe..." she starts to say, but trails off.

"Maybe what, love?"

Caroline musters her courage, "Maybe when things are better, when I'm better, we could catch up?" She wants to slap herself, a little. It's seems like such a feeble offer.

But Klaus has always been content to let her stumble towards him at her own pace. She can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, that pleased one, with an edge of wonder, that she'd coaxed from him a time or two, "Things are a bit out of control here, but I hope to wrap that up soon. Perhaps you'll swing down south before heading back to Virginia? I'd still love to show you my city."

Caroline finds herself smiling genuinely, "I think I'd like that."

"Good. You've got a bit of driving to do, so I'll let you go. But, Caroline?"

"Yes?"

"You are strong. Don't forget that. Don't doubt it."

Klaus hangs up before she can thank him again, around the lump in her throat. Caroline gets in her car, pulls up her GPS. The first thing she needs to do is figure out where the hell she is.

Then she'll figure out the rest.


	5. What Kind of Man

**Notes: **I've been MIA lately! It's been two weeks since I've posted anything. Sorry guys, I've been super blocked. I few people sent me prompts and that's been helpful so hopefully I'll have an update to one of my multichapter stories soon. This drabble was written for Klaroline Wednesdays on Tumblr. I strayed a bit from the prompt, I think. But I'm not going to argue with the muses at this point. Enjoy!

**What Kind of Man**

**(KC Wednesday prompt: Caroline is saved by Klaus from being abused by someone. Though she is grateful, she doesn't know him and is afraid of him. He makes it clear he is not a rapist and that she will always be safe next to him. Rated T.)**

Klaus isn't a middle of the week drinker (not since university, anyway) but it's Kol's birthday and Kol insisted the actual day be commemorated, in addition to the festivities that were planned for the weekend. So they'd met up at their usual bar, after work, to have a few drinks. That had, of course, devolved into raucous competition, with several hundred dollars riding on it, at the pool tables. Klaus is only half paying attention at this point. The bar is quieter today than it usually was on the weekends, though he does recognize a few faces.

Mostly the regular (read: alcoholic) regulars. And her. Caroline.

He'd only been introduced to her last week, though he'd noticed her months ago, when she'd first begun frequenting the establishment. She's gorgeous and bubbly and has the kind of laugh that makes you smile in involuntarily in response and he'd often thought about starting a conversation. He'd be witty and charming, eventually asking for her phone number, but the timing had just never quite been right.

Then, last Saturday, Caroline had rescued Rebekah from a catastrophic wardrobe event (Bekah's words, not his) with a couple of safety pins and they'd made fast friends in the ladies room, and their respective groups had mingled for the evening. They'd chatted a bit, about their jobs, her distaste for beer and his ridiculous number of siblings, all of whom had been in attendance. He'd not managed to ask for her number though, despite the increase in his interest after their conversation, something he'd mentally berated himself for the next day. Caroline's alone tonight, which is unusual. Typically she's in the company of a pair of brunette twins (who seem to be as diametrically opposed in personality as two people with identical faces could possibly be), and a diminutive girl with a killer glare that Kol's a bit obsessed with, none of who's names had stuck in his brain.

Klaus has been sneaking glances at her, debating asking her to join them, for the last twenty minutes. He hesitates, first because the trash talking Kol and Damon are engaging in is frankly embarrassing, and second is that she appears out of sorts, melancholy even, and he doesn't want to impose.

He decides that issuing a low pressure invitation couldn't hurt, would be polite even, since they'd become acquainted last week. Stefan's the only other person at the table (engrossed in his phone, probably texting Rebekah, who'd been less than pleased by Kol's 'no girl's allowed' edict) "I'll be right back, mate," Klaus tells him, getting up.

"Finally," Stefan says, with a scoff.

"What's that?"

Stefan tears his gaze away from the screen to level Klaus with an unimpressed look, "You've been eyeing that girl from last week for half an hour. Not to mention all the eyeing you've been doing for months."

"Have not," Klaus denies, weakly. "And her name is Caroline."

"I know that," Stefan replies with a smirk, "The fact that you remember it says a lot. Rebekah says to go for it, she likes Caroline much more than your usual slags. They're going shopping on Sunday, apparently."

"The level of codependency you and my sister display is sometimes alarming, you know."

"It has its perks."

"Not any that I'd be interested in hearing, I'd imagine."

"Nope," Stefan confirms. "Now go. Good luck."

Klaus rolls his eyes and doesn't bother responding. He's making his way across the bar and though he'd initially been mildly offended that Stefan had assumed he'd need luck of all things, it turns out that he could have used it. He'd waited too long to make his approach, and there's a bloke in a suit chatting Caroline up. The universe has evidently decided that his genuine interest in a woman must be thwarted at every turn.

Klaus changes course and heads to the restrooms. He meets Caroline's eyes briefly, as he passes her table, and she smiles at him in recognition.

He nods in acknowledgement and continues on. When he returns to his side of the bar a few minutes later Stefan is shaking his head in disappointment but keeps his comments to himself under Klaus' warning glare.

Klaus' eyes drift back to Caroline occasionally, without him consciously meaning to look at her. She doesn't warm up to the man in the suit immediately, her expression more polite than interested. But he persists and she wavers, eventually accepting a drink.

She seems to loosen up quickly after that. Klaus' attention is drawn back to her when the peal of laughter he recognizes from breaks out over the noise of the bar. The man she'd been speaking to is helping her with her coat. Caroline's unsteady on her feet, leaning heavily on the table, and the man is wearing a smugly pleased expression that does not sit well with Klaus.

He's out of his chair and making his way toward them without a second thought, or a word for his friends. He ignores the man completely, focusing on Caroline, as he asks if she's alright.

"M'fine," Caroline slurs in response. She's swaying, and her skin is flushed and her forehead is damp. It's February and the bar is in no way warm, so Klaus is even more certain that something is not right.

Her companion attempts to elbow Klaus out of the way, but he's not budging, "She's fine, bro. Just had a few too many. I'm going to take her home. I'll tuck her in nice and tight," he finishes with a snicker.

Klaus fights the urge to strangle him, "She's not fine," he growls. "And you're not taking her anywhere."

"This isn't any of your business, dude. Back off."

Klaus takes a deep breath, and forces himself to be calm. He grasps Caroline's upper arms and steers her towards a chair, not letting go until she's settled into it. He steps in between her and her suitor, "I'm making it my business. I'm fairly certain you've drugged her. Now I suggest you leave."

"I don't need to drug anyone. A girl comes to a bar alone, you know what she's after. She's not even that hot."

Stefan had wandered over in time to catch the end of that conversation. He steps up next to Klaus and joins him in staring down the belligerent man. Klaus' fists are clenched tightly and he's positively itching to take a swing. Stefan knows the signs of Klaus' fraying temper better than most so he speaks up, "I'm seconding that suggestion that you leave. I'm going to call the cops no matter what, but you might want a head start."

The man's eyes narrow, and he glances back and forth between Klaus and Stefan, before grabbing his coat and leaving, muttering something about cockblocking doucebags as he stalks away. Klaus turns back to Caroline, who's slumped over with her forehead on the table. He crouches next to her and only vaguely hears Stefan say he's going to go talk with the bouncer and let Kol and the others know what's happening.

"How are you doing, love?"

"Don't feel good," she mumbles, rolling her head to the side so she can look at him.

Gently, Klaus brushes her hair away from her face, "I know. But you're safe and we're going to fix that. Do you remember me? We met here, last week."

Her face creases in deep concentration and her eyes are unfocused on his, "Kind of. Pretty eyes. You're blurry."

"Sorry about that, sweetheart. My name is Klaus. Can I call one of your friends? I think you're going to need to get checked out."

"Bonnie. Or Kat. Not Elena. Judgey."

"Alright," Klaus locates her phone in her purse, and she's luckily able to unlock it for him, though he suspects that's habit rather than her actually remembering the code. He has a quick, awkward conversation with her friend Bonnie, who promises to come immediately.

Stefan returns with the bar's owner and a female bartender, who sits with Caroline and offers her a glass of water under Klaus' concerned gaze. They're joined by two uniformed police officers shortly and both he and Stefan describe the man they'd seen with Caroline. EMT's show up a few minutes later and begin performing tests on Caroline.

Bonnie rushes into the bar less than fifteen minutes after Klaus had hung up the phone with her, wearing sweatpants and with a purple wool cap jammed over damp hair. She ignores all the commotion and kneels down next to Caroline's chair. They speak in quiet tones for a few moments, before Bonnie wraps Caroline in a fierce hug and comes over to talk to the police. There's a fire in her eyes and tension in her shoulders, "Please tell me you know who the dick who spiked her drink is," her tone is clipped and angry and Klaus would not want to meet her alone in a dark alley, despite her small stature.

The officers assure her that it's very likely that the man will be apprehended. Klaus has gotten the impression that the would be rapist was an idiot, as well as a creepy predator, and had used a credit card to pay for the drink he'd roofied.

Bonnie nods in satisfaction and eyes him in recognition, "You're Klaus," she notes.

"I am."

"Thank you for helping her."

"You're welcome. I'm glad I was able to, honestly."

Bonnie smiles tightly but is distracted as the paramedics seem to be attempting to move Caroline from the bar. She darts to Caroline's side and wraps an arm around her waist, not sparing Klaus another thought. He watches as they leave the bar, and he wishes that he knew Caroline more than just barely. That he knew her well enough to drop by with flowers or chicken soup or something tomorrow, to make sure she suffers no lasting effects from this night. It's going to bother him, not knowing how this ends.

* * *

Late Sunday afternoon, there's a knock on Klaus' door. He's not expecting any visitors, but he'd also not really been doing anything productive, so he doesn't mind the interruption. Upon opening the door he's shocked, and quite pleased.

"Hi," Caroline greets him, fingers twisting together nervously around the handle of a gift bag, when he doesn't manage to say anything, "Rebekah brought me. I hope you don't mind."

Klaus shakes himself, unsure of how long he'd been gaping at her like an imbecile, "No, not at all, do you want to come in?"

"No. Thanks. Rebekah's actually waiting downstairs. I brought you this," she thrusts the gift bag at him, "Full disclosure, I'm not really sure what sort of gift says, 'Thanks for chasing off a creep who drugged me and getting me medical attention even though I'm basically a stranger' but Rebekah says you like to draw, so you get a sketchbook and some fancy pencils. The girl at the store recommended them."

"You really didn't have to do that."

Caroline shrugs, "And you didn't have to do what you did. A lot of guys wouldn't have."

"I was headed over to speak to you when that man did. So perhaps if I'd not waited quite so long to work up to it the whole messy business could have been avoided."

"Oh, god. Please do not blame yourself. I'm the idiot who accepted a drink from a sketchy stranger."

"You're not an idiot, love. It's an appalling world we live in that a woman must be so on guard."

Caroline smiles shyly, "So we agree that the only person to blame is the douche with the roofie?"

"We do."

"Great," Caroline rocks back a step, "I'll see you around?"

"Wait," Klaus decides to make a leap, since not doing so had ended so badly last time, "Would you like to have coffee with me? I understand if you don't, given your recent experiences with terrible men, but…"

"I'd like that," she interrupts, "You're obviously not a terrible man. Tomorrow? I work until 4:30."

"That's perfect."

She gives him the name of a bakery, promising the cupcakes will blow his mind, and an address, before she takes her leave. They exchange one last smile before the doors of the elevator close between them.

Klaus didn't get her number, but finds that he doesn't mind. They'll work up to that, he's sure.


	6. Just One Beating Heart

**Notes:** For **Angelikah** (aka **thetourguidebarbie**). Happy birthday! I give you smut with excessive background (because I am incapable of NOT doing that), tons of fluff, and a dash of Katherine. Title from "Sleep Tonight" by Stars. Full disclosure: everything I know about dorms comes from the movies.

**Just One Beating Heart**

**(Prompt: First college hall meeting. Klaus hates ice-breaker activities with a burning passion. Until he doesn't. Smut.)**

Klaus has just finished arranging his bookshelves the way he likes them, is both a little sad and a lot relieved that Kol won't be around to mess them up, when there's a knock at the door. He ignores it, because he's quite certain it's the blonde Resident Advisor coming to remind him about the dorm mixer that starts in five minutes. It's his own fault, for not bothering to hide his distaste, when she'd mentioned it this morning. He'd been perfectly content to play the loner in high school, why should university be any different?

But no, Camille the RA had been filled with platitudes. She'd droned on about making memories and lifelong friends and developing as a person. She might have even used the phrase 'blossoming into an adult.' Klaus is quite certain that real adults don't have their mothers footing the bill for their single dorm rooms (which was roughly the size of his walk in closet back home – but he'd rather be cramped than be forced to share his space with an imbecile for the better part of a year. Sharing a bathroom was going to be enough of a trial). She'd been so earnest about it though it was likely ripped directly from whatever RA guidebook the school handed out. Klaus had nodded and smiled, not willing to be labeled a problem student and have her hover over him, but he suspects he'd been too late.

The taps on the door come again, louder this time. And then again. Klaus heaves an irritated sigh. Could the girl not take a hint?

He throws the door open and yes, there she is. He stares at her, waits for her to state her business, but she seems not to note his surly attitude (or perhaps she just thinks she can talk it away – highly unlikely) as she grabs his arm and tows him down the hallway. Klaus is shocked, people usually knew better than to just touch him without his permission, and is about to shake her off when a group of guys files out of a room just behind them. He'd met one of them, Marcel, moving in and he'd been a pleasant enough bloke. They fall into step behind him and Camille, cutting off Klaus' exit route, and introductions begin. Klaus nods to the new people (Thierry, Diego and Josh) and resigns himself to a few hours monotony as he's absorbed in the chattering group.

* * *

Caroline's one of the first people in the room where the mixer's being held, having dragged her roommate (reluctantly, as Katherine had been debating which pair of shoes best complimented her outfit) with her. She'd been kind of dreading sharing a space with a stranger for months but Katherine seems cool. Calculating, to the point, and kind of territorial, but Caroline could roll with that. She didn't like other people touching her stuff either. Only child syndrome, probably. The other girl had pressed a flask of vodka on Caroline before leaving the room, taking another of whiskey for herself, so at the very least the other girl would probably be a lot of fun.

Katherine picks out a chair and pulls Caroline down to sit on the arm, "You're my buffer. I already know I don't hate you. Keep the idiots away so I don't have to stab anyone."

Caroline rolls her eyes but she wouldn't put it past Katherine to be carrying a weapon. If nothing else one of the heels of the sky high stilettos she's got on would probably puncture flesh just fine. Katherine has soon charmed a nearby boy into fetching them drinks and a couple of cookies (and just as easily dismissed the poor guy when he lingered near them) and they're watching the rest of the floor's occupants filter through the door.

Katherine seems pretty unimpressed, for the most part, ("That's the worst dye job I've ever seen." "Birkenstocks are never the correct choice." "Ugh. I hate hipsters." "If My Little Pony Fedora Guy comes near me I will not be held responsible for my actions, Caroline.") though she calls dibs on most of the more attractive guys.

The room's nearly full when a familiar face enters it. He looks annoyed, but that's nothing unusual, Klaus had never had much patience for people. "Dibs!" Caroline blurts out, before Katherine can.

"Finally!" Katherine says, peering past Caroline, "I was getting worried I had a goody-goody on my hands. He's pretty hot, but I prefer my man candy tall, dark, and handsome. You can have him."

Caroline's not at all surprised that Katherine viewed 'dibs' as subject to her approval but is glad she won't have a fight on her hands. Cause she would have fought hard.

Klaus is glancing around the room and he seems to start as he catches sight of her. Caroline gives him a wave and he shoots her a small smile.

"Wait, do you know him?" Katherine asks.

"Yeah. He went to my high school. I didn't know he was going here, though."

"Caroline, the whole point of college is to test drive new dicks. Not drive old beaters into the ground, you know?"

Caroline coughs slightly on the sip of Coke she'd just taken, "I've never, uh, driven, that one."

"Oh. Well then, that's alright. Get it, girl," Katherine touches her plastic cup to Caroline's, "Happy hunting."

* * *

Klaus is shocked (and thrilled, he'll admit privately) to see Caroline Forbes seated in the lounge of his dormitory. They'd talked about their post-graduation plans, once or twice, but nothing too specific. She's talking to a brunette (who's raking him with a predatory gaze) and he's just about to go over and say hello when a shrill whistle sounds and the room goes quiet.

The other RA, another Psych student named Vincent, calls everyone to attention. He announces they'll be starting with some icebreakers and Klaus barely holds in a groan. He'd rather let Rebekah give him a makeover than play tedious getting to know you games with people he has no interest in getting to know.

But he can't exactly make an escape, not with Camille the pushy RA at his side. And as Caroline's eyes find his again he finds his desire to leave wilts. Because while he does know her, at least a little, he very much wants to know more.

Klaus had met Caroline on his first day at Mystic Falls High School. His first period after lunch was Art and he'd been early, having ditched the cafeteria (and his assigned guide) at the earliest opportunity. The school wasn't that big, especially compared to the one he'd attended in London, so he'd found his way easily enough.

From the second he'd stepped out of his car Klaus had felt like an insect pinned to a board. It was a small town and it seemed like people rarely moved to Mystic Falls. Understandable, as it lacked much in the way of attractions. Honestly the only reason his mother had picked it was because, according to the kick she'd gone on a few years prior, some of her relatives had once resided in the area. So when Esther was looking for a fresh start, post-messy divorce, small town Virginia had seemed ideal.

Klaus had been sorely tempted to stay behind in London. Elijah had offered to him the spare bedroom of his flat, and he could have continued his education uninterrupted. But Rebekah's eyes had gone round and watery, Kol's face perfectly blank, when Klaus not going with them had been mentioned. Henrick, only four, had clung to his legs, shaking his head in denial, and so Klaus had really had no other choice but to go with them.

And now here he was, starting a new school a few weeks into September, in what would be his second to last (junior? He thinks that's what American's call it) year.

He'd mostly weathered his new classmates comments in silence. Really, what kind of imbecile didn't know that Hogwarts was in Scotland, not England? But if one more giggling girl asked him to repeat some nonsensical sentence, so she could marvel at his accent, Klaus was going to snap.

A little time to himself had become necessary.

Klaus had selected a table near the back and pulled out a sketchbook. He'd gotten absorbed in it, and was startled to hear the door creak open. A quick glance at the clock told him the lunch period wasn't finished yet. A pretty blonde in a red dress flounces in, pulls up short when she sees him, "Oh! Sorry. I didn't expect anyone to be in here."

Klaus shrugs in response, keeping his mouth shut in order to avoid any more gushing over how he talks. He vaguely knows who she is (head cheerleader, chair of every dance committee, dates the quarterback, kind of a bitch – had been the rundown his guide had given him).

The girl comes further into the room, plopping her bag onto the table next to him, "I'm Caroline. You're new. Transferred from England, right? You're all the rage in the girl's bathroom."

Klaus can't help but cringe at that and she giggles. "Don't worry. I don't think you're a parrot. I'll get my sexy accent fix from the BBC if I need one."

"I'm Klaus," he offers, slightly grateful.

She beams a smile at him, pulls off her jacket, "Nice to meet you! How are you liking Mystic Falls?"

They'd chatted casually until the bell had rung and more students began to file in. At the end of the class she'd offered him another smile and pointed him in the direction of his chemistry class. Klaus had been left somewhat mystified as 'bitch' wouldn't have been on the list of words he'd have used to describe Caroline Forbes.

* * *

Of course, that impression hadn't lingered too long. As they continued to sit together he'd become privy to Caroline's biting wit and myriad of opinions. She'd confessed to signing up for the art class thinking it would be an easy A and have minimal homework (her schedule otherwise being jam packed with AP prerequisites) and also hoping it would make her look more well-rounded on her college applications.

But, as it turned out, that was not the case. Caroline lacked much in the way of natural artistic talent and often grumbled when Klaus produced something the teacher praised without much fuss. Her own work usually received kudos for the effort and gentle critiques on the technique.

Caroline Forbes was not a fan of critiques, as it turned out. And she often let loose with some choice words for their instructor, words that left Klaus struggling not to laugh too loudly, as soon as the teacher was out of earshot.

She was definitely a bitch, but Klaus found that he liked Caroline very much, regardless. And well, he _was_ a teenage boy and she was beautiful. And there was no uniform at this school. Caroline was quite fond of flirty dresses and tiny shorts. Is it any wonder that she came to star in the vast majority of the fantasies he spun while he touched himself in the shower? He thought it was the only logical outcome to their proximity. She had a boyfriend though, and was the loyal sort. He'd resigned himself to the fact that the dreams were all he'd ever have.

* * *

Forty five minutes into this mixer and Klaus was quite sure he was in hell. How some of these people had managed to survive eighteen years of life was beyond him. Surely the herd should have been thinned, at some point?

The only tiny moment of relief had come when the brunette Caroline had been sitting with earlier (Katherine was her name. She was rooming with Caroline and seemed equally as contemptuous of most of their peers, so at least seemed to be somewhat intelligent) had subtly waved a flask at him and poured a generous measure into his cup mumbling, "Caroline says you're cool. If you rat us out they'll never find your corpse," before whirling away.

Violent thing, but she seemed to have decent taste in whiskey.

The next game was called (two truths and a lie, how original) and Klaus was shuffled into a group. He was surprised to see Caroline across from him and opened his mouth to greet her only to be stopped by a subtle shake of her head. Their previous acquaintance probably made it cheating for them to play this game together. He's not surprised she's overlooking that, given how much she likes to win.

He returns her nod and she grins at him. Klaus finds himself unable to do anything but smile back.

* * *

Caroline bounces slightly as she waits for the girl on her left to formulate her responses. She might be a little tipsy but she's having a pretty good time. She doubts any of the people she's met so far will become her new bestie but a few of them seem cool enough. She's even met two people who share her major and seem to have a couple of the same classes. She's already planning a study group.

Plus her keen observational skills, and the fact that she's been paying attention as they cycled through other games (and the fact that Klaus isn't exactly a stranger) means that she's going to kick ass at two truths and a lie.

Her confidence is well founded as she immediately spots the lie the other girl tells. Amateur. Point for Caroline. Klaus goes next and he smirks at her as he says, "I have four brothers, I was born in Wales and I moved to Savannah, Georgia when I was in high school."

Caroline's eyes narrow at him, was he throwing her a soft ball? Please. Like she needed it.

Not that she won't take it. Caroline and the other boy in their group correctly guess the lie about where he lived. The other girl expresses shock that Klaus has so many brothers.

"And a sister, love" he tells her, "who's worse than all of them combined."

The girl (Greta, Caroline was pretty sure was her name, and could she be any more obvious?) giggles obnoxiously and puts her hand on Klaus' arm. Caroline glares at it but sadly fails to remove it from his person with the power of her mind.

When she looks back at Klaus he's eyeing her knowingly. "I do believe it's your turn," he says innocently. "What was your name again, sweetheart?"

Oh, it is on. Pretending he didn't know her? Maybe he _was_ into what's her name. Well that was too bad. Caroline had called dibs.

Tossing her hair back and pasting on her best Miss Mystic smile Caroline takes her turn, "My name _is_ Caroline. I'm from Mystic Falls, Virginia. I was captain of my high school's varsity volleyball team. And I had very explicit fantasies about this hot guy in my Art class drawing me like one of his French girls."

Klaus chokes on the sip he'd just taken and doesn't that just serve him right? Greta is shooting her a judging look and Caroline raises an eyebrow, challenging her to comment, until the other girl looks away. The fourth person in their group, a skinny guy wearing a Batman t-shirt, has turned slightly pink and is looking at the ground.

Caroline keeps the smile on her face, meets Klaus' gaze steadily as he composes himself and looks back at her, "Well? Any guesses? Or should we just skip this whole thing and call me the winner?"

* * *

No one had been amenable to that, though Klaus doesn't think Caroline minds. She's shamelessly sprinkled the rest of her answers with slightly sexual truths. Klaus has been trying to force himself to recite football statistics, and think of biology dissections, in order to avoid an obvious erection.

She's watching him knowingly, fully aware of the affect she's having on him. The evil little tease.

Thinking unsexy thoughts is easier said than done, when all he really wanted to do was think about her first confession. He's almost entirely certain she was talking about him. Klaus couldn't quite recall her talking to any other of their classmates too often. They'd shared a table for nearly two years, and he'd paid her plenty of attention.

When the next activity is called Caroline shoots him a sultry look, biting her lip coyly, and saying, "See you later. Klaus was it?" before flitting away.

He watches her walk away, sure she's swaying her hips more than she needs to, barely hearing the other girl who'd been in their group trying to talk to him.

* * *

She passes Katherine on her way to the next activity. Katherine gives her a measuring look, "That guy is looking at you like he wants to eat you. I'm kind of impressed, Forbes."

Caroline glances back over her shoulder and sure enough Klaus is still watching her, lips parted, eyes hungry. God, this is fun. She'd never really allowed herself to flirt with Klaus, having been in a relationship for the entire time they'd known each other. Caroline and Tyler had been drifting apart for months, towards the end of Senior Year, and they'd gone their separate ways to college after a friendly break up over the summer.

Which is not to say that she'd never _thought_ about flirting with Klaus. He was hot, she had a healthy libido, and there was something about his hands, the way he held a pencil and produced beautiful things, that would often sent a lick of heat low in her belly. Caroline had given serious consideration to what those fingers could do on her skin, while alone and in her bed, her own too slender fingers working between her thighs.

She's thanking her lucky stars for the opportunity to find out now.

Caroline shifts restlessly as those dirty thoughts scroll through her mind, before turning back to Katherine, and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Yeah. And I'm totally going to let him."

Katherine snickers, "Nice. You and I are going to get along just fine."

* * *

Klaus had tried to catch Caroline before leaving, with plans of asking her to join him for coffee or dinner tomorrow, once the event had mercifully come to a close. She'd been caught up in conversation with a few other people, talking animatedly about classes, so he takes his leave. He makes his way to his room and begins gathering his things to take a shower when he hears another knock at his door. He grits his teeth, if it's the RA again, come to natter on about his socialization…

Answering the door he sees that it is indeed a blonde on the other side, but one he likes far better. "Hi," Caroline says, "did you know there are four single rooms on this floor? This is the third one I've tried."

Klaus leans against the door frame, "Eager to see me, love?"

She narrows her eyes at him as she cocks a hip and rests a hand on it, "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I disturbing you? I can go…"

Caroline's barely rocked backwards a step before he's reached out and grabbed her arm. He pulls her into his room, closing the door and backing her against it. She lets him crowd her, watching him curiously as he lifts a hand to toy with a few of the curls that drape over her shoulder, "Feel free to disturb me anytime."

She smiles, nudges him to the side and walks around his room, inspecting things here and there. She pauses at the desk, rests her hand on his sketchbook, and then turns to him, a smile creeping across her face that makes Klaus' breath catch. "So, full disclosure. I've had a bit of alcohol. I am not, however, in any way impaired. Do you want me to do some of the drunk tests? I know them all, because of my mom."

"Close your eyes and touch your fingertip to your nose," Klaus instructs. Caroline rolls her eyes but complies, doing it easily and without even a quiver of hesitation. Klaus considers asking her to walk in a straight line but he'd rather not annoy her, especially if things are going to go the way he hopes they are. "How's Tyler?" he asks instead.

Caroline's eyes pop open and meet his. She turns and sits down on his bed, crossing her legs as she shrugs, "Fine, I think. We broke up in July, only saw each other a few times after. I assume he's at school in Kentucky."

"I'm sorry," Klaus says. Because it seems like the correct thing to say about the dissolution of a three year relationship even though 'sorry' is the last thing he is.

"I'm not," Caroline replies immediately. "It was time."

Klaus is just about to ask what she means by that but Caroline takes a deep breath and stands abruptly. The white tank top she'd been wearing is discarded on the floor and she's going for the clasp on her beige bra when his brain catches up and he manages to stutter out, "What are you doing?"

Caroline hesitates for a moment. But then chin lifts stubbornly and the traces of nervousness are smoothed away. Klaus has spent the better part of two years making a study of Caroline Forbes' expressions, however. He knows bravado when he sees it. So he keeps his eyes on her face, even when the bra drops. "Did you think I was lying about my explicit fantasies? I wasn't."

"You want me to draw you?"

"Yes. Unless of course you don't want too? I thought… I mean you weren't exactly subtle with how you looked at me sometimes so I just assumed…" she brings her arms up to cover herself and looks away.

"I do," Klaus blurts out, because it's entirely possible he'll die if she stops. "I do want to. And if you assumed that I've liked you for quite a while than you were correct."

A delighted smile touches her lips and when she says, "Good," her voice has lowered slightly. Her posture straightens, hands falling away as her confidence returns, and Klaus allows his gaze to wander, down the pale skin of her neck and shoulders, further, lingering on her breasts, her nipples pink and puckered. Klaus itches to touch and taste.

He glances at her hands, which have opened her shorts. He sees blue lace underneath but both shorts and knickers are quickly discarded. She sits down again, and holy fuck, she'd naked and in his bed. He takes a second to savor the thought as Caroline undoes the zippers of her shoes before kicking them off.

Leaning back, she bunches his pillows up behind her, draws her legs up and curls them to the side. Klaus registers that he's staring at her, probably gaping most unattractively, just before she lets out a soft laugh, "Is this okay? How I'm sitting? I think we both know I'm not the artist here."

Klaus clears his throat, turns away to collect his sketchbook on autopilot. Drags a chair over and sits down, somewhat gingerly as he's been hard since she started stripping. "It's fine. You're perfect." This is probably going to be the worst drawing he's produced in his life, but that has more to do with how much his hands are shaking than anything else.

Klaus flips to a new page. Takes a few steadying breaths, though he tries not to be too obvious about it, "Try not to move so much, okay?"

Klaus starts at her feet. They're typically kind of difficult to get right, and probably the least erotic part of her body, so he thinks it's a good idea. He takes quick glances, mostly concentrating on the lines he's drawing. She had said she wanted him to draw her and he was going to deliver. If he looks at her too long he'll never get it done. The room is silent, save for the sound of his pencil scratching away, for several minutes. It's tense. But in a good way, anticipation prickling his skin, heating his blood. He can't say this scenario has never factored into his own fantasies, though he'd never actually expect it to happen, let alone be something Caroline initiated.

Perhaps icebreakers aren't so bad.

* * *

Caroline's never really been all that good at the whole sitting still, sitting quietly thing. That dates back to when she was a baby, to hear her parents tell it, when she began crawling and walking (and talking, obviously) way ahead of schedule. Really, she'd always thought they should be grateful she was so advanced. People love to brag about their kids, come on.

And having the full focus of Klaus' eyes on her, even on the not so sexual parts of her (he's currently staring raptly at her knees) is actually getting her kind of hot. It's a fight not to squirm and clench her thighs together more tightly, shift a little to see if the ache that's building will ease.

She's not sure how to let him know that she'd like to move things along though. She'd brushed her teeth before coming here. She'd gotten naked and climbed into his bed. Was it too much to ask that Klaus make the next move and actually kiss her, touch her, something?

But no, he's entirely focused on the paper in front of him. She might as well be a bowl of fruit, clearly. She grits her teeth, forces herself to remain relaxed since this had been her brilliant idea, after all.

Artists. So annoying.

* * *

When Klaus finally makes his way to her face (hoping she'd not noted the painstaking attention to detail he'd used to capture the few freckles that dotted the curves of her breasts) he's greeted with the sight of Caroline fast asleep, lips slightly parted, the fan of her lashed resting gently on her cheeks.

She looks lovely and peaceful and Klaus feels kind of terrible for the wave of disappointment that crashes over him. He'd rather thought this was a form of foreplay, after all. But he shakes it off, reminds himself that Caroline is now single, and living in close proximity. He'll have another chance. He'll make sure of it.

Klaus finishes the drawing, lays the sketchbook on his desk without closing it. He doesn't know if he'll get this opportunity again so he doesn't want to mar it with smudges. He grabs one of the extra blankets from the closet. Caroline's laying on the ones that cover the bed, and he doesn't want her to get cold.

Then he grabs his towel and the shower bucket he'd discarded earlier and goes to take a very cold shower.

* * *

Caroline wakes up slightly disoriented for a minute. She's in a weird position, for one, laying the wrong way across a single bed, legs hanging over the side. She pushes up from the wall she'd been slumped against, winces as she rolls out the kinks in her neck. It all comes back as she sees Klaus, stretched out and dozing, on the floor.

She'd fallen asleep? Kind of embarrassing. But it had been an early morning, followed by a long day of hauling boxes with her dad and Steven, then unpacking everything. It made sense that she'd been tired.

But Klaus could have woken her up. Seriously, there was being a gentleman and then there was being dense.

She grabs one of the pillows from behind her. And then she throws it directly at his head.

Klaus startles, sitting up immediately, his eyes darting around the room, "Caroline. What…"

Caroline's never exactly been at her best when she just wakes up. Ask anyone. They'll tell you to steer clear because she gets pretty cranky. So it's with exasperation that she speaks next, "Why are you sleeping on the floor, you idiot?"

Klaus rubs a hand over his face, "You fell asleep."

"Duh. I got that. Are you somehow the only person in the world who's never seen _Titanic_?"

"No, I have. Bekah loves it."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I'm sorry?" Klaus looks confused and it would be kind of adorable another time. But Caroline is irritated and horny and sick of his inability to take a damn hint already. Coyness had gotten her nowhere. He'd said that he liked her, and he knew her well enough to know that she wasn't always the best at filtering her thoughts. She's got to assume that he likes that too.

"I asked what your problem is? Because anyone with two brain cells to rub together, who's seen _Titanic_, would get that 'draw me like one of your French girls' is code for hot, sweaty sex!"

Klaus' eyes widen and his mouth falls open, "Oh. You want to…" he motions helplessly between the two of them.

"Yes!"

He still seems somewhat at a loss, sitting on the floor. Caroline can't help the frustrated noise she lets out as she pushes the blanket aside and slides to join him on the floor. She walks over on her knees until she's right beside him. He looks up at her, swallows harshly as she straddles him. But his hands come up to rest on her hips, tentatively smoothing up her back.

"Do you want to?" Caroline asks, settling back on his legs.

Klaus nods, immediately, and so she seals her mouth over his, nipping at his bottom lip until he opens his mouth to her with a groan. She strokes his tongue with hers aggressively, tipping his head back with a hand in his curls as she tastes him for the first time.

His hands on her skin become less hesitant, squeezing her ass and pulling her against him more firmly. He moans as she pulls back, his mouth going insistently to her throat, placing kisses and licks and bites down the length of it. Caroline arches back, gives him more room, pressing her hips down into his.

One of his arms wraps around her back as the other comes up to cup her breast, thumbing the nipple just as his teeth graze the other. Klaus takes his time, playing with her, finding what she likes. And by the time he's found the perfect combination, of rough strokes and soothing circles, her breath is coming out in pants and gasps, and she's pretty sure there front of his jeans must be damp from where she's grinding against him.

God, as if he's still fully dressed.

It's that thought that has her pushing him away, forcing him down onto his back. He growls out a protest but she scoots back, shoves up his t-shirt, and presses her mouth just above the waistband of his jeans, biting gently and palming him over his clothes, when he moves to sit up. He stills underneath her, watching her raptly. "Take off your shirt," Caroline demands, as she unbuckles his belt.

He complies hastily, tugging it off as she gets his pants undone. Caroline hooks her fingers in the waistband, grabbing his boxer briefs at the same time. She pulls them down, Klaus lifting his hips to help, until his cock springs free.

She wraps her hand around the base of him, drags her fist up, thumbs the head until his eyes roll back and he moans her name. Then she ducks her head and licks.

"Fuck, Caroline!" his voice is hoarse but she wants it desperate and pleading.

Caroline draws him into her mouth, slowly descending, strokes what she can't take in with her hand, before she pulls back with a hard suck, using her free hand to fondle his balls.

The whiny noise he makes is highly gratifying.

She continues to work him, licks along his length before sucking his cock back in, hollowing her cheeks and watching his fists clench the carpet next to them as he fights not to move too much. Her name fall from his lips in between ragged inhalations. "Caroline, please. I'm almost…"

She hums around him and the rest of what he was going to say is lost in a strangled groan as he comes. She swallows around him, works him through, before pulling back gently, and sitting up.

He's a mess, sprawled on the floor. Eyes glazed, sweaty, chest rising rapidly as he fights to catch his breath.

"Thank you," he says. Though he looks embarrassed afterwards, like he hadn't meant to say that.

"You're welcome," Caroline replies, grinning down at him in a way that's probably kind of smug.

"Come here," he beckons her closer, turning to his side to face her, kicking his pants off the rest of the way, as she lays down next to him.

"Can I ask you kind of a personal question?"

Klaus snorts, glances down at their naked bodies, "I think so, love."

"You've done this before, right? I'm not like, deflowering you here. Not that I'd mind, because there's nothing wrong with waiting. But I'd kind of like to know, just so I'm prepared."

"Have some teacher fantasies rattling around, Miss Forbes?" Klaus looks amused.

Caroline considers it. It's not something she's really put much thought into but it could be kind of fun. Later. "I feel like role play might be a little advanced."

"That's not a no," he notes, "But I'm not a virgin. Took care of that before I set foot in the States, actually."

"Oh. Good. I just never saw you with anyone at school, so I wondered."

"That's because I wasn't interested in any of the other girls at school. Had a bit of a fling with one of the girls on your rival cheer squads last summer."

Caroline gasps, offended. Klaus grabs her knee and hooks it over his hip, "Was it Melissa Moreland? Because if so, ew. She is the worst."

Klaus hand is creeping up her thigh, "It was not."

She's opened her mouth to reply but his fingers have ghosted over her pussy, and she loses her train of though. He does it again, a few times, until she hitches her leg higher to give him more access. Klaus' ability to pick up hints has clearly improved with orgasm because he immediately applies more pressure, circling her opening for a moment before finding her clit.

And yeah, he's definitely done this a time or two, because the gentle circles he's making, only occasionally brushing over her nub? Really fucking good. Her eyes drift closed and he stops moving in response. "What's wrong?" she asks, shifting restlessly.

"Eyes open, Caroline."

Caroline nods, peeling her lids up to look at him once again, and Klaus slips a finger inside of her, drawing a moan from her. He quickly adds another, gliding them in and out while his thumb takes over on her clit. He encourages her to roll over onto her back and climbs over, leaning up to kiss her as the pace of his fingers increases with the insistent rolling of her hips. Caroline pulls back, unable to concentrate on his lips against hers, mindlessly digging her nails into his back every time his fingers hook just right.

She's so close, and she tries to tell him so, but only manages to moan his name, struggling to keep her eyes open so he doesn't stop. He seems to get what she wants though, thumb rubbing her clit more intently, until her thighs are shaking and she's straining against him, the tension in her limbs coiling tighter and tighter until in snaps exquisitely and she throws an arm over her mouth to muffle her cry.

* * *

Caroline's trying to catch her breath. She looks incredible like this, flushed and satisfied. Klaus is hard again, but he finds that as much as he aches to be inside of her, this is enough for now. He reaches up to the bed, pulls down some pillows and the blanket. Gathers her close and covers them. Caroline shoves a pillow under her head, "Why are we on the floor again?" she asks.

"I have no idea. You're the one who followed me down."

"On the bright side there's more room down here."

Klaus hums an agreement.

A slightly awkward silence befalls them. Caroline's fidgety, her eyes shifting around the room. She sneaks a peek at Klaus out of the corner of her eye but he's propped himself up on his elbow, watching her, trying to decipher the expressions flitting rapidly across her face, "What?" she questions.

He laughs softly, "Nothing! I've just never seen you so quiet."

"Oh. Sorry?" The apology comes out like a question.

"No, it's not bad, love," he assures her, "Just different. I like it, but I also liked hearing you rant about how your co-chair of the decade dance committee had less taste than a color blind chimpanzee. I quite enjoy your rambles on just about all subjects."

"Oh."

"Would you go out with me tomorrow?" Klaus asks, and he curses himself for sounding nervous. He can't help it, not really. He'd thought it likely that he'd never see her again, both of them having been set on getting out of Mystic Falls. He's never believed in fate but her being here kind of makes him wonder if he should.

"Yes," she says simply.

He smiles, pleased, "Excellent. Now, do you object to moving things to the bed?"

"You want me to stay?"

Klaus shoots her an incredulous look, "Of course I do. Your roommates not going to come looking for you, is she? I only met her briefly but she's a bit scary. Besides, it's 3AM."

"She knows. Was really, uh, encouraging," Klaus wonders if he should ask her to elaborate, decides against it.

He gets up, grabs a pair of sweats and slips them on, offers Caroline another pair and a t-shirt. She takes them and dresses while he turns down the covers on the bed. He climbs in, waits for her to join him. She still seems kind of unsure so Klaus says, "You know, I'm really glad that RA shanghaied me into going this evening. I was going to stay in, you see."

Caroline sits down, lays back gingerly, "Yeah. It doesn't seem like your scene."

"It's definitely not. But you were there. And it turned out to be a fantastic night."

She rolls her head to the side to look at him, "Yeah?"

"One of the best in my memory," Klaus tells her seriously.

Caroline finally relaxes, fits herself against his body more snugly, resting an arm across his stomach, "Mine too," she replies quietly.

Klaus presses a kiss to her hair, tells her goodnight, listens to her breaths deepen as she falls asleep. Decides that he'll do everything in his power to make sure that many more nights end just like this one.


	7. Klaus Mikaelson: Dog Whisperer

**Notes: **I've been struggling to focus on any of my multi chapters these last two days and when this prompt came across my dash I couldn't resist! Mostly silly with a teeny dash of angst.

**Klaus Mikaelson: Dog Whisperer**

**(CRACK. Based on the prompt (via auideas on Tumblr): ****"Y****ou should hear what your dogs say about you while they're at the dog park. Do you really cry while watching cartoons?" Rated T.**

The sixty-four years that have passed, since Caroline woke up with an ache in her gums and a hunger unlike any she'd dealt with, have honed her senses well. There are six people in the vicinity and four dogs, including hers. It's the only dog park in the small town, and the humans all milling about are regulars. They know she likes to be left alone.

When another presence enters the park Caroline feels it, even though the entrance is fifty or so feet away.

It only takes another few seconds and her senses register something off about the newcomer. It's not a human, she knows that for sure. Doesn't quite feel like a vampire, either. She steers clear of werewolves, for obvious reasons. Two bite wounds are more than enough for this lifetime, but she doesn't think that's who's approaching her right now.

She tenses, ready to fight if necessary, and glances over her shoulder.

And then she tenses even further, because it's Klaus and he's headed directly for her.

Her first instinct? To scoop up her dog (despite how odd it might have looked to the humans scattered around, a slender blonde hefting a 70lb Gerberian Shepsky with ease) and run.

Her brain tells her that's stupid a stupid plan. And pointless too, Klaus being so much faster than she is. But it's been a long time since she's seen anyone who knew who Caroline Forbes used to be. Not since Bonnie died and Elena woke up. And The Salvatore's took their miracle cures, dooming that love triangle to an eventual, human, death. She gets emails, occasionally. But watching her other best friends grow old and die has little appeal.

Klaus grins at her, rounds the bench she's seated on and settles himself next to her. He plucks the tablet she'd been reading from her hands, scans it for a moment before he arches a brow at her suggestively.

His timing is impeccable, of course. She'd just gotten to the smutty part. The rakish Duke deflowering the bluestocking spinster. With unrealistic multiple orgasms and everything.

She snatches it from him, scowling, and Klaus lets her, leaning back and stretching his legs out, "Not a work I'm familiar with," Klaus muses, "but I suppose I see the allure."

Before Caroline can gather herself enough to formulate a comeback they're interrupted by a large ball of fur and muscle bounding over and squeezing herself into the space between their legs. The dog circles and sits down, leaning against Caroline.

Surprisingly, Millie doesn't growl or bark at Klaus, her usual reaction to strangers. She's a mite protective of Caroline, has been ever since Caroline fished her out of a dumpster, two years ago, even when she was too small and clumsy to do much damage.

The dog cocks her head to one side, and Klaus offers her his hand. Millie leans forward to sniff at him, and Caroline prays that the puppy school lessons have stuck, and Millie's well and truly out of her crotch sniffing stage.

Because that would have been embarrassing.

After a moment Millie allows Klaus to pet her, and when he rubs behind her ears her tail thumps on the ground in bliss. Weren't dogs supposed to be good judges of character? She loved Millie but perhaps her dog was defective somehow.

"Interesting," Klaus notes.

Unable to help herself Caroline asks, "What's interesting?"

"For one, I'd never pegged you for a dog person, your attraction to those with wolf blood aside."

Caroline rolls her eyes, a habit she'd never been able to drop. She thinks about arguing the point, because the smug way Klaus had side-eyed her made it pretty obvious that he was including himself in that group of werewolves.

But the hours they'd spent together, touching and tasting, sometimes playful, occasionally a little rough, and always intense, would have made any denial Caroline attempted a big fat lie. Besides, shouldn't she be passed feeling like she had to deny something like that? There was no one left to judge the tangle of feelings Klaus used to inspire. So she offers a casual shrug, "People change."

"Mmm. And you have. You used to be happy, Caroline. You loved life enough to ask me to save you, even though you didn't trust me at all. What happened?"

Caroline bristles, his words hitting far too close to her weak spots, "Excuse me? I'm perfectly happy, thank you very much. Don't think you can come here and assume you still know me, Klaus."

Millie lets out a whine, turns away from Klaus and lays her head on Caroline's lap.

Klaus glances from the dog to Caroline's face, and says just about the last thing she ever would have expected "Do you really cry, watching cartoons?"

Caroline gasps, "How do you… are you spying on me?" it comes out high pitched, almost a shriek, and several heads turn in their direction.

"Not at all, love. If only you could hear what your dog says about you to the other dogs at the dog park."

Caroline can feel her mouth opening and closing, but no sounds come out as she tries to process what Klaus just says. Because it sounds like he's saying he can talk to her dog. That's not a thing, right? She'd know if that was something werewolves could do. Tyler had been the freaking love of her life, once upon a time. That's information he would have shared.

"Sure, Dr. Doolittle," Caroline says scornfully, "My dog told you my life's a mess. I'll still be checking for hidden cameras when I get home."

"Your dog's quite chatty, actually. Perhaps there's some truth to the idea that canines take on some of their owners traits. She thinks you need a bigger car. And is not a fan of your new perfume. I'm inclined to agree. A few too many floral notes."

Caroline can't help the look of betrayal she shoots Millie, who stares back innocently, nosing her hand in a demand for it to continue stroking her fur. But that's crazy, right?

"Oh, ha ha. Why don't you tell me why you're really here, Klaus? And how you knew I would be?"

"It's entirely coincidental, that I found out you were living here. The vampire, who runs the café you go to occasionally? A friend of Elijah's."

"Ugh, of course." Didn't it just figure that the one vampire in town was chummy with an Original? Caroline hadn't really interacted with the woman, mostly avoiding the café even though it serves coffee far superior to anything else around. But, every once in a while, Caroline gets a craving for the toffee cheesecake the cafe makes, that just won't be denied.

"Yes, Agathe is one of my brother's favorites. They exchange letters semi-annually. The last one mentioned a blonde vampire named Caroline had moved town, suffering from a case of ennui. She's a mother hen type, always has been."

"That's not a very specific description," Caroline replies, still finding the story suspicious.

"No. But Rebekah's a terrible snoop, you see. Read the letter, wrote to Agathe for more details. I believe the little sneak might have even sent a photo to confirm your identity. Relayed the information in her own sweet time, of course."

"And so you came to check on me?" Caroline makes no attempt to hide the incredulousness she feels.

"Something like that," Klaus hesitates for a moment, and when he speaks again it's almost tentative, "I once told you that there's a whole world out there, remember?"

"I've seen it."

Klaus chuckles, "Oh, I very much doubt that love. Nearly eleven hundred years now, and I still manage to find new things occasionally. You've been wallowing, for quite a while, I think."

Caroline doesn't bother to deny it. And there's no point in explaining. She's hiding, and she knows it.

A silence falls between them, and Caroline finds herself sneaking peeks at Klaus, who seems perfectly content to just sit on a park bench with her. But she's never been good with quiet contemplation and she has so many questions. Most pressingly, and the easiest to tackle, "So, wait. You can actually talk to dogs?"

Caroline watches a smile curve Klaus' lips, "It's a well-kept secret, but yes. Usually. The little ones, the really overbred ones, are difficult to understand. Some are quite stupid, too."

Caroline considers that, still not entirely sure he's serious, "To be fair, I've met some really stupid people."

"As have I, sweetheart."

"You really don't like my perfume?" Caroline asks as she drops her head, hoping to catch a whiff. She'd thought it was nice when she'd bought it last week.

"I don't. But then I'm biased. Surely you recall my fondness for your natural scent, Caroline?"

She blushes, damn him. The memories suddenly vivid. The decades, or her recent celibacy, must have weakened her defenses because that low, suggestive tone did things to her.

Klaus watches her knowingly, and she half expects him to touch her. Half suspects that she'd let him. But Klaus stands, shoves his hands in his pockets, "May I buy you lunch, love? I know for a fact that Agathe has some specialties that she doesn't whip up for just anyone."

Caroline only hesitates for a moment. It's easier, than she ever though it would be, Klaus' company. He doesn't feel like home, nothing does anymore. But he reminds her of who she once was. Of what it was like to be brave and resilient. And she doesn't have to lie to him, like she does with so many people these days. With a sigh she stands up, brushing off her clothes. Millie sits patiently while Caroline clips on her leash, "Sure. But only if you tell my dog to keep her mouth shut. It's not fair if she's spilling all my secrets."


	8. Laine's Day O'Fluff Drabbles

**Notes: **So I had some prompts lingering in my inbox, asked for a few more. Was in a fluff writing mood so today became Laine's Day O'Fluff and I wrote 3 AU's. They're maybe a little rough but I hope still enjoyable!

* * *

**we're better if we weather it**

**(From a-malcontenta-girl: "Caroline and Klaus are roommates and they can't stand each other. A night he finds Caroline terrified by the storm in his bed, he comforts her and she fall asleep in his arms." Title from "Stormy" by Hedley Rated K+.)**

Caroline's just opening her door when another rumble of thunder booms, and she jumps. She wraps her arms around herself and squeezes her eyes shut, trying futilely to calm her racing heartbeat.

It's just a storm, she tells herself. You're inside. It can't hurt you.

But she needs to get out of her room. The big windows are usually a plus, letting in air and light. Tonight, not so much, the streaks of lighting that illuminate the night sky and her room every so often only serve to heighten Caroline's fear.

She's always been freaked out by storms. Her mom swears up and down that there's no childhood trauma behind it. And Caroline has no specific memories of one either. But she remembers crawling into bed with her parents, and then just her mom, until she was probably too old to do so. She remembers huddling on the floor of her closet as a teen, pillow wrapped around her head, the teddy bear, that she'd have denied still sleeping with, clutched tightly.

It had been easier in college, with a roommate around. And Caroline hadn't lived alone since then.

When she'd lived with Rebekah she'd usually just made an excuse to go into Rebekah's room, start chatting, and had usually ended up falling asleep. She'd been fairly certain Rebekah knew her true motives, smart enough to catch Caroline's occasional flinches. But Rebekah had always humored her, handing over an extra blanket and letting Caroline ramble on about whatever issue she'd invented.

But Rebekah had moved out a month ago, after falling hard and fast for Caroline's friend Enzo. And while Caroline had been happy for them, maybe a touch envious of their blissfully happy infatuation with each other, she'd also been kind of worried about covering the rent on her own.

A solution, in the form of Rebekah's older brother Klaus, had dropped into her lap.

He was moving to the city, needed a place ASAP, what's the worst thing that could happen, Caroline had thought. She was a people person, after all. Totally capable of getting along with just about anyone. That optimism had been crushed in less than 24 hours. Because Klaus Mikaelson, unfortunately, proved to be the exception.

He was a little messy, first of all. Which fine, Caroline tried not to judge (much). But would it kill him to keep it out of the common areas? And he had the nerve to whine when she broke a paint brush that had rolled onto the floor. If it was so expensive maybe he should be taking better care of it, hmm?

He also had a ridiculous sweet tooth and kept all manner of junk food in the kitchen. Seriously bad for her willpower. He bought the fancy stuff too, damn him.

They battled over the remote control, DVR space, proper room temperatures (she was always cold, he was always hot), bathroom counter space, her love of scented candles, his tendency to leave his clothes on the bathroom floor, which way the toilet paper roll should go (under, duh, Unless you were some kind of heathen). It was a never ending series of skirmishes and Caroline had stormed out of a room to avoid throwing something at his stupid, smug, overly attractive face, more than once.

He always seemed more amused, than anything. She was pretty sure he enjoyed riling her up. And worst of all Klaus was clearly something of an exhibitionist because they mostly had these fight while he was in his indoor uniform of basically nothing. It was like he was allergic to shirts, which was bad enough. But the pants also came off more often than not (though he justified it by saying it was the only way he could deal with the Mordor level of heat in the apartment).

Caroline's already made a note to buy him actual shorts for any upcoming gift giving holidays. It was very hard to successfully argue with someone while trying not to let your eyes evaluate the bulge in their boxer briefs. She was only human, after all. And going through a bit of a dry spell, sue her.

But it's the amusement that makes Caroline think that Klaus probably doesn't actually hate her. And that's the only thing that has her hesitating outside of his door, hand poised to knock. What's the worst that could happen? He'll make fun of her for being afraid of a little bad weather? He makes fun of her all the time (her taste in reality TV, love of historical romance novels, the methodical organization of the spices) and she brushes it off. He's the one who can't see the genius of _Dance Moms_ and that's the real tragedy, in Caroline's opinion.

Another burst of thunder makes it feel like the whole buildings shaking. Caroline jumps again but knocks softly before she can stop herself. There's no answer and she shifts her weight around, wavering, before trying the doorknob. It turns easily in her hand and Caroline peeks into the room.

Klaus is asleep, facedown, and she's way jealous of his ability to ignore the commotion Mother Nature's making. She says a mental prayer that he's a heavy, _heavy_ sleeper and tiptoes to the bed. In slow, careful, movements she eases the covers up and slips into the bed next to him. It's soft and it smells like him, and she's really going to have to ask him where he bought these sheets. Caroline relaxes slightly, feeling comforted, even though that's probably stupid.

It's just better not to be alone, she tells herself. Even if her company is Klaus.

She's just plumped the pillow under her head when her luck runs out and Klaus mumbles her name.

Caroline turns her head towards him, cringing internally.

Klaus clears his throat, his voice slightly less sleep raspy when he says, "Am I dreaming, love?"

Not what she'd expected him to say. Raising a brow Caroline can't help but ask, "Do you often dream of me crawling into your bed?"

"Sometimes. You're typically wearing quite a bit less so I assume that this is, in fact, reality, and I've just humiliated myself a bit."

Another angry growl of thunder, another involuntary clenching of every muscle in her body, prevents Caroline from replying. She's shut her eyes once again and when she opens them, she's expecting mockery. But there's none to be found on Klaus' face, his eyes are soft and compassionate, "Not a fan of inclement weather, then?" he asks lightly.

"No," Caroline admits, releasing a slow breath. "I never have been. It's stupid. I'm an adult and I should just get over it."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Caroline. Fear's not rational. I myself cannot stand the sight of centipedes. All the legs," Klaus finishes with a theatrical shudder and Caroline giggles softly. The small smile he shoots her tells Caroline that he's pleased he could distract her, and make her smile.

"Well, should one ever find its way into the apartment I'll kill it for you," Caroline offers.

"My hero."

The rain picks up, Caroline can hear it pelting against the windows, and she's thankful that the dark blinds in Klaus' room shield her from seeing much of the lightning strikes. She tries to take deep slow breaths, and pulls the blankets up higher. She's just contemplating pulling them all the way over her head when Klaus sighs loudly and says, "Come here."

She shoots him a confused glance, "Um, what?"

"You're shaking the bed, sweetheart. And I'd actually like to get back to sleep. I've an early meeting tomorrow. So, come here."

Caroline slides over a few inches, "Wait, you're not naked under there, are you?"

"No, I assure you I am decent enough."

Caroline pauses but then decides to continue. What's a little platonic snuggling between roommates, in the grand scheme of things? It's not like she can really get any _more_ anxious. Klaus stretches an arm out and she settles into his shoulder, bringing her legs over to rest against his. She's not quite sure what to do with her hand and it hovers awkwardly in the air above them for a moment. Klaus laughs softly, she feels the vibration against her, and he gently pulls her arm across him. They shift together for a moment getting comfortable. She can feel his hand rubbing soft circles on her back, over her t-shirt, and lets out a contented hum.

Caroline, warm and cozy now, feels her eyes grow heavy. She thinks he's drifting off too, but before he does, "Hey, Klaus."

He makes a soft noise, and she assumes that means he's listening, "Thank you," Caroline whispers, "I know we're kind of Oscar and Felix and you could have kicked me out."

"You're welcome, love. And if you need this again, that's fine too. Let's talk about the rest tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," Caroline agrees. And she falls asleep focusing on sound of his heartbeat, steady and strong in her ear, eventually blocking out the raging storm.

* * *

**i'm bitchin, great hair**

**(Prompt from my-light-into-the-darkness: "Klaus as a high school student participating in a sports tournament in another school than his own and Caroline as a cheerleader of the team of his opponents." Title from _Bring It On_. Rated T.)**

Caroline's smile was beginning to hurt.

The last place on the planet she wanted to be on was where she was right now. Friday night, an away game the next town over, cheering for the football team. The football team that happened to be captained by the guy who'd dumped her three days ago. In public. At school. Who even did that?

She's trying really hard not to think about the bus ride home. Maybe she could fake falling asleep? Or start her European History paper. Or else just sit next to Kat and have her verbally eviscerate anyone who came too close.

Not that Caroline was pissed about the break up, per se. Good riddance to selfish-in-sexual-areas douchebags. But he'd been sending her pitying looks all night and she was sick of it. She didn't need the pity of an asshole who had broken up with her because she didn't have enough time for _his_ 'needs.' Which apparently included watching him play video games with his friends and helping with his Chemistry homework on demand. It had taken every ounce of finely honed Miss Mystic poise Caroline had not to laugh in Tyler's face.

She was busy, okay? Prom wasn't going to plan itself. If the sloppy toe touches the squad was doing tonight were any indication, the regional cheer trophy wasn't going magically appear in her hands either. Extracurricular activities were important, because not everyone had a rich dad ready to foot their college tuition.

Besides, _she_ had all sorts of needs that she'd been taking care of on the regular without his assistance, and really, what was the point of a boyfriend who rarely reciprocated orgasms? She should have followed Kat's advice and dumped him the first time he'd rolled off of her, leaving her on the brink, and put his pants back on. It was just rude, in Caroline's opinion.

Expressions of sympathy about the breakup from the girls on the team had been squashed easily enough. Her friends knew her real thoughts about the matter and the rest were mildly to moderately terrified of her. Just how Caroline liked it.

Half-time was called and Caroline forced herself to tune everything out and focus on the other team AKA the competition. She can admit privately, however grudgingly, that they're pretty good. She's known the other cheer captain, Rebekah Mikaelson, since kinder ballet and the girl's got moves. She's also a huge bitch, but people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, right?

The crowd hollers raucously when they're done and Caroline refuses to let that bother her, home field advantage being what it is. She puts her hands on her hips, turns the smile up a notch, ignoring the ache in her cheeks, and leads her squad out on to the field.

She's out in front, so she glances back at Katherine and Elena both of whom have strict instructions to make note of anything that needs to be worked on. She gets an eye roll from Kat and a nod from Elena but she knows they'll both come through.

She claps her hands and starts the first cheer, loving the eyes of the crowd on her. It's her favorite part of performing, always has been, even when she was just a little kid and ballet recitals were more enthusiasm than skill, and she'd just been inexpertly twirling in a pink tutu to a captive audience of parents.

She refuses to look at her team's bench, lest she catch any eye's she doesn't want to see, and have her buzz ruined. Caroline finds herself glancing towards the other team, to the other team's quarterback in particular.

He's watching them, watching her, if Caroline's not mistaken, raptly.

She averts her gaze, tries not to smile. Because she's known Klaus Mikaelson for just as long as she's known Rebekah. Their mom had often ended up dragging one or more of Rebekah's siblings to be reluctant spectators at their dance classes. Kol, Rebekah's twin and a year younger than Caroline, had always required copious amounts of sugar based bribes to be coaxed into sitting still for the duration of the lesson. Klaus, a year older than Caroline had always been willing to sit quietly with a pad of paper and a pack of colored pencils.

He's grown up nicely, that's for sure. She sneaks another peek at him, notes the flush of exertion high on his cheeks, his dark blonde curls tousled and damp.

He's wearing football pads, of course. But Caroline knows what's under them is pretty impressive, since she'd had all of him pressed up against her last summer at The Falls.

But this was so not the time to get lost in _that_ particular memory.

She finishes the cheer on autopilot, ignores the questioning look Kat shoots her as they run off the field. She excuses herself to run to the water fountain, grabs a couple of the girl's bottles that need to be refilled.

They all fall from her grasp when a hand grabs her arm and pulls her into a doorway. Caroline's fight response kicks in, and she's just about to start throwing some elbows, taking a deep inhale in preparation to scream bloody murder, when the body that had accosted her moves away and a light flicks on.

She's momentarily relieved to see that it's just Klaus, and then she's annoyed, "Seriously? You scared the shit out of me. You're lucky this uniform doesn't have pockets or you'd be washing pepper spray out of your eyes right now."

Klaus eyes drop, taking in her bare midriff and the length of her legs. His tongue peeks out to run along his full lower lip and the corner of his mouth tilts up, "I would say that uniform is perfect, just as it is."

"Perv," Caroline grumbles, crossing her arms.

"I was sorry to hear about your recent break up, Caroline," Klaus looks down, but she's not fooled by fake sympathy.

"Oh really?" Caroline scoffs, and doesn't try to temper her disbelief.

"Okay fine, love. I was not sorry at all. I've always thought you could do quite a lot better."

"And you're the better I could be doing, I'm guessing?"

Klaus grins at her, amused, "While I wouldn't have phrased it quite so crudely, yes. That was what I was getting at."

Caroline considers him for a moment. Klaus has his hands clasped behind his back, and the slight shifting back and forth he's doing is the only hint he's giving off that he might be nervous. He's watching her expectantly, almost hopefully, "Why?"

Klaus blinks, like her question surprised him, "I fancy you. I thought I'd made that quite obvious."

"We got to second base against a tree when we were a little drunk, Klaus."

Klaus' eyes gleam and darken as he steps closer, "Oh, I remember that quite vividly. And the only reason I was drunk at all was because I was convinced that a little liquid courage would allow me to finally ask you out. I just overdid it. And then the scary Gilbert twin dragged you away before I could get your number. The next time I saw you were at the movies with Tyler draped all over you."

He seems sincere and Caroline figures, what the hell? She remembers his approach last summer. How they'd talked and laughed and edged closer together. How he'd taken her hand and drawn pictures on her palm with a calloused fingertip until her whole arm had tingled. She'd made the first move, tugging him closer by his shirt and whispering, 'Kiss me.' Klaus had done so eagerly, and expertly. She'd striped his shirt, run her hands all over him. Her bra had been discarded soon after and he had her shirt rucked up past her breasts by the time Kat had found them.

Kat had just been being a good friend but Caroline had been less than pleased at the interruption. In her dreams that night, and several nights after things had gone differently. Klaus had gotten her more worked up with his mouth on her nipple than a certain terrible ex-boyfriend could usually manage with his hand down her pants. Caroline figured she owed it to herself to figure out what else he could do for her. An evil thought occurs to her, "How would you like to give me a ride home tonight?"

"I would be delighted, love. Though should I be worried you're using me to make your ex jealous?"

Caroline notes the hint of vulnerability. Can't help but feel a little pleased by how genuine his affection seems to be, "No, not at all. I promise I wouldn't do that."

"Well, alright then. Would you like to stop and get something to eat?"

"Yes," Caroline replies. Then she steps into him and brushes her mouth over his, takes a tiny nip of his bottom lip. Klaus' hands fall to her hips, fingers tightening as she deepens the contact between their mouths, and he pulls her closer. They kiss briefly, just a teasing hint of tongue, before Caroline pulls back. "I'll see you after the game."

* * *

**you're reassembled just like me**

**(Prompt from an Anon: An AU/AH drabble where Klaus and Caroline were high school sweethearts and are reunited at their 10th reunion. Fluffy or smutty or both. Title from "Reunion" by Stars. Smut.)**

Checking her lipstick one last time, and it was just as perfect as it had been three minutes ago, Caroline steps back from the mirror, scoops up her clutch and heads downstairs. Her mother's on the couch, and turns to watch Caroline's descent.

Liz Forbes' eyes widen as Caroline walks into the living room, which Caroline takes as a good sign. She might have been planning this outfit for _weeks_, might have splurged a little on the dress (and the shoes…) but she'd figured clothing was armor. And going to her ten year high school reunion, in her small hometown, utterly single and childless, was going to be a battle.

Never mind that she was happy and successful. A good chunk of her high school classmates had settled back into the area and moved into cute little houses behind white picket fences. Caroline was braced for condescending remarks about how she wasn't getting any younger, and didn't she think it was time to settle down?

"You look beautiful, honey."

Caroline shoots her mom a grateful smile, leaning over to slip her heels on, "Thanks mom."

"I won't wait up for you."

Caroline rolls her eyes, has to laugh at how high-school this conversation is. In fact, she's pretty sure it's exactly the one they'd had before Prom. Her mom had been pretty lenient with curfews (more out of necessity, given the odd hours being Sheriff sometimes required). But Caroline had been thrilled when her mom had given her free reign after Prom. She and Klaus had made a brief appearance at an after party but ducked out, dug a blanket out of his trunk, and headed to 'their' spot in the woods. They'd drunk champagne out of plastic cups and talked about their favorite memories. They'd both felt the weight of the upcoming summer, their last together, and mentions of the future had been carefully avoided.

She hasn't spoken to him since they parted that August. She knows he's coming (through the magic of Facebook) and that's a big part of the reason there's a herd of mutant butterflies in her stomach right now. And probably a big part of the reason for the sleek, sexy black dress she'd chosen, and the obsessive fussing she'd done over her hair and makeup.

Because Caroline had loved Klaus, once upon a time. They'd been inseparable all throughout high school, and they'd given serious consideration to going to college together. But it hadn't worked out, in the end. Once the acceptances and rejections had been tallied one of them would have had to settle for a school that didn't quite fit. Caroline wouldn't have asked that of him, and she wouldn't be the girl who put her dreams on hold for a boy.

They'd talked and she'd cried. Klaus had tried to convince her that he'd be fine, following her to California, but she'd refused to let him even consider it. They'd had countless fights about it but, in the end, she'd refused to compromise and Klaus had reluctantly agreed. He'd left first, packed his things and driven out of Mystic Falls. He hadn't returned, as far as she knew.

Caroline had been a mess, that first night. Her mother had tried to soothe her with platitudes about puppy love, how this would all seem insignificant someday.

Caroline hadn't believed a word of it then. Wasn't sure if she believed it now.

Oh, she'd had boyfriends. A handful of not so great ones that she chalked up to lessons learned. But there had been a few in there, great guys, who she _had_ loved. But she'd always felt like something was missing, that she couldn't be 100% herself with them. And when things had inevitably fizzled she'd been sad for days or weeks, indulged in a couple pints of Ben and Jerry's, maybe a little retail therapy. But she'd always moved on easily enough.

Which brought her back to Klaus.

Maybe it was terrible, but she really hoped he didn't bring a date.

Not that she was expecting a rom com moment, or anything. She was pretty much over the idea that a room could melt away when your eyes locked with a handsome man across it. But she just needed to see him. To figure out if the things she felt for him, that she'd never been able to entirely forget, were real or just her brain idealizing the memories.

And then she could either finally, finally, move on or resign herself to pining forever. Which was a depressing thought.

Wishing her mother a good night Caroline left the house, silently cursing that she hadn't thought to raid the liquor cabinet and fill up the flask she'd found in her closet.

* * *

Walking through the halls of Mystic Falls High was incredibly odd, to Klaus. He'd not been particularly fond of the high school experience and, had it not been for Caroline, he probably would have skipped the bulk of the dances and various traditions that he'd gone along with to make her smile.

But the halls seem smaller, the lockers lining them chipped and dingy.

There are people he vaguely recognizes, talking and gesturing animatedly in pairs and clumps leading to the doors to the gym. They cast him curious glances but he pays them no mind. There are only a handful of people he has any desire to see and none of them are out here.

Klaus hears the creaking of the doors he'd walked through moments ago opening, the sharp click of heels on the tile.

Someone exclaims, "Oh my god, Caroline Forbes! You look amazing!" and Klaus freezes.

Of all the people he might run into tonight Caroline was both the one he was most looking forward to seeing, and the one he was dreading. Because she'd broken his heart ten years ago. Klaus had resented her for a long time, refused to hear her name spoken by the people he'd kept in touch with (mostly just Stefan, but still). But he recognized, eventually, that she'd been right, to insist they not cling to their relationship at the expense of their futures. And he knows that he'd not been alone in his heartbreak.

And he's missed her. Still misses her, sometimes. He sees her in his paintings, knows Stefan and his siblings do too. Klaus is thankful that they don't bring it up, because how does one say they've never gotten over their first love without sounding utterly pathetic?

He hears her laugh and Klaus' breath catches. How many times had he waited for her, in this very hall, to finish up with cheerleading? She'd laughed exactly the same way when he'd teased her about how she'd ruled the squad with an iron fist.

His body's turning, almost without his brain's permission. She's speaking with a woman that Klaus thinks was a member of one or another of Caroline's committees. But he doesn't pay that other woman more than a moment of attention.

Because the compliment bestowed upon Caroline had been an understatement. Amazing wasn't a good enough word for how mind bendingly gorgeous she looked. As if sensing his gaze her eyes flick up and meet his. Her lips part in shock, for just a second, before she smiles at him, obviously thrilled at the news.

And Klaus knows that he's in trouble.

* * *

Her Facebook stalking had yielded enough pictures to tell her that Klaus hadn't gotten fat or bald. But the photos on her screen hadn't exactly done him justice. He's wearing blue, which she'd always kind of preferred. She'd dragged him around the mall more than once making wardrobe suggestions, though he had mostly remained committed to his blacks and greys.

Caroline had smiled at him without even thinking about it. The rest of the people milling in the hall might not have ceased to exist, but she no longer cares about their presence. She murmurs something she hopes is polite to April Young and steps around the other woman, walking in Klaus' direction as if she's being pulled.

He, on the other hand, seems rooted to the spot, though his eyes drift all over her, appreciation evident. Totally making the dent the dress had made on her credit card worth it.

When she's right in front of him, she feels tongue tied, and it takes a lot of willpower for her not to look at her feet. Speech seems to be slightly beyond her capabilities, however.

But Klaus manages it and the way he says, "Hello Caroline," is warm and fond.

"Klaus," she manages, with a nod.

They're silent, but he takes a tiny step closer, lifts his hand and takes hers, "You look ravishing in that dress, love."

Caroline knows she should say thank you, should maybe make a self-deprecating joke but instead what she blurts out is, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Yes," Klaus agrees, when the words are only barely out of her mouth. And then he's laced their fingers together and is tugging her back down the hallway, towards the exit. She's sure their former classmates are murmuring about them, but Caroline can't find it in her to care. So she'd provided Mystic Falls with a killer piece of gossip, what did it matter? She's leaving on Sunday and by the time she's back for Thanksgiving some other scandal will be the talk of the town. Because hurrying alongside Klaus, trading giddy smiles, is exactly where Caroline wants to be.

* * *

He stops abruptly when they get outside, turns to Caroline and asks, "Did you drive?"

"Walked."

"In those heels?" Klaus asks, in surprise, nodding down at her feet.

She tosses her hair and shoots him a haughty look, "I live in New York now, Klaus. I do a lot of walking and I like pretty shoes that make my ass look amazing."

That's a new piece of information for Klaus. The New York part, not the ass part. A shocking, amazing bit of news considering the down payment he'd recently put down on a place in the very same city. Klaus reaches out and cups her cheek, and Caroline's eyes widen in wonder, "I thought you lived in San Francisco."

Her brows furrow, "I moved almost nine months ago. Got a promotion and a big fat raise. And Kat's there so I figured, why not?"

"Why not," Klaus echoes absently, before his hand sinks into her hair and his mouth covers hers. He swallows her shocked gasp and the little moan that follows as he licks into her mouth.

How he's missed the taste of her.

Caroline gets over any surprise quickly, one hand going around him, the other clutching his jacket. Both pulling him closer as they kiss, deep and frantic.

When they break apart she's gasping but Klaus moves his mouth to her throat. He finds he's not forgotten a single thing about the things she likes and pulls another little moan from her with a scrape of his teeth and a lave of his tongue. "This is crazy," Caroline pants, "It's been…"

"Nine years and about eight and a half months," Klaus says, resting his forehead against hers, "I've thought of you often, Caroline. More often than I would ever admit."

"Me too," she confesses quietly.

"And this feels right, doesn't it?"

Caroline nods against him, closes her eyes.

"And," Klaus continues, running a hand down her back, unable to stop touching her now that she's so close, "I've also recently decided a change of scenery was in order."

Caroline's eyes fly open and her lips part.

Klaus smirks at her shocked face, "So at the risk of being a completely sappy fool, will you have dinner with me next month, Caroline? You already live there and I'll be brand new so I'll trust you to show me your favorite places?"

Caroline's beaming even as she lets out a laugh, "I like it when you're a sappy fool."

"I remember."

"So of course I'll go to dinner with you." Her smile turns mischievous and he recognizes that look in her eyes. It makes his heart beat faster and sends a jolt of interest south to where he's already aroused, "But if you think I can wait that long to have you inside of me again you are completely mistaken. Where's your car?"

Klaus swallows harshly, "Are you sure, Caroline?"

"Yes," she says firmly, "a thousand percent sure that I want you."

That's all Klaus needs to hear.

* * *

Caroline feels like a teenager again, as they reach the car. Klaus fumbles for the key ring and the mechanical click seems loud in the dark. But then Klaus pushes her against the side of the vehicle, presses his hands on either side of her body. The way he looks at her is hungry, predatory, and she's reminded that they're not kids anymore.

They'd been each other's firsts, had learned together, sometimes awkward and fumbling, especially in the beginning. But with enthusiasm, and lots of practice (hormones really were a bitch), plus a little research (thankfully checking browser histories had been beyond her mother's technological abilities) they'd gotten pretty damn good at the whole sex thing.

But this feels different, in the best possible way.

Klaus' voice is low, seductive, his lips brushing under her ear sending shivers down her spine, "I should probably take you back to my hotel, love. Undress you slowly, touch you gently, watch you writhe for me. And I will. But I don't think I can wait that long. And I don't think you want to."

"I don't. I can't." God, the very thought of waiting is torture.

Klaus' hands drift down, past her hips and he tugs her slim skirt up slightly. His hand drifts up her inner thighs, his eyes watching her reactions avidly. Caroline moves her legs as far apart as she can in encouragement, sucks in a breath when he hooks a finger around her panties, the knuckle curling briefly near her clit. He tugs, and she shifts until they drop, but she barely notices because he's got a finger buried in her heat before they hit the ground. Her head tips back, his name coming out in a gasp as he grinds his palm against her, a pleased little hum rumbling out of him, "You have no idea what it does to me Caroline, to find that you want me as much as I want you."

His movements are slow, searching, and he completely avoids her clit. She'll never be able to come like this, as incredible as it feels. And she's pretty sure he knows that, and is doing it purposefully. So, to move things along, Caroline uses one hand, which had been uselessly scrabbling for purchase on the metal at her back, and cups him through his trousers. His groan is harsh and he shifts into her hand.

Caroline thinks she understands why he's been watching her so intently, the pleasure on his face, the clenching of his jaw, the fluttering of his lashes, from only her touch makes her feel powerful. And it makes her want more.

So she firms her grip on his cock, then grips his shirt and pulls, so he's flush against her, rubbing her body against his as she swivels her hips with the movements of the hand still stroking her center, "You said slow later, Klaus."

"I did," he agrees, his voice strained as her hand rubs him.

"Which means fast. Now. Get in the car."

Klaus quirks an eyebrow at the order but pulls back slightly. Caroline whimpers when his hand leaves her, and Caroline's knees grow weak when he sucks her wetness off of his finger.

"If I recall our youthful experiments," Klaus says roughly, "it'll be easier if you're on top."

"Yep. Now get in," she shoves him slightly, her impatience getting the best of her.

But Klaus merely laughs softly, climbing in and settling in the center of the backseat. He goes for his belt, still moving too slowly for her taste.

Caroline kicks off her shoes, and tosses them and her bag safely in the front seat. Getting into the SUV she kneels on the bench seat and shimmies her dress up, over her hips, before she throws a leg over Klaus' lap and drops her hands between them to hurry along the pants removal process. She gets his fly open, her hand in his boxer briefs, he lets out a strangled groan when she touches him, his movements growing harried as he rears up and shoves his clothing out of the way, "Condom?" he mutters.

"Pill," Caroline replies.

He grabs her hips, tries to pull her down, but Caroline resists, hovering over him. She unbuttons his shirt, rakes her nails down his chest. Klaus arches into her and when he says, "Caroline," he's nearly panting.

She reaches for his cock, situates him at her entrance. Klaus thrusts as she drops down and they both moan when he's all the way in. Caroline leans forward to kiss him again before she lifts herself up. They move together feverishly, Klaus wraps one arm around her, pulling her down into him. He nuzzles her neck, and pushes her back slightly, his free hand crawling up her torso to play with her still-covered breasts.

Her thighs are burning, trembling, and she brings a hand between them to touch herself. Klaus' whisper of, "Yes. Just like that," is nearly a hiss and she leans back enough to he can watch. It only takes a few tight circles of her index finger and the tension in her body snaps. Caroline slumps into him as she shakes through her orgasm. He follows after a few snaps of his hips, muffling a shout against her throat.

Caroline's still short of breath when she pulls back to look at him, "Let's not wait years to do that again, okay? Days. Maybe a week?"

Klaus smiles, draws her back down for another kiss that has her clinging to him, just a little, "I'd prefer hours to days, sweetheart."

"That can probably be arranged."

Klaus smile is brilliant and Caroline knows for sure. What she'd once felt for Klaus wasn't special because she was too young to know any better. It was special because of who he was, and who she was, and how they fit together. And she doesn't see herself ever getting over that.


	9. Meet (not so) Cute

**Notes: **Another Tumblr drabble! I'm on kind of a roll.

**Meet (not so) Cute**

**(Prompt from queenvampirebarbie: ****"I bumped into you and your paint box fell and your stuff spilled out everywhere, oh god i'm so sorry." Rated T.)**

Checking her phone again Caroline bit back a curse (because swearing to yourself was just asking to be looked at like a mental hospital escapee – and she did not need the silent judgement of random strangers right now). But she was _late_ and she _hated_ it. Punctual was Caroline Forbes' middle name, usually, but the Gods of public transportation had a vendetta of some sort, and her bus home had been almost ten minutes late.

And crowded. And inhabited by several people with questionable taste in fragrance, and no idea how to apply said fragrance subtly, leaving her with a bit of a headache.

Shoving her way off the bus, she'd raced to her apartment, rushed through getting ready, only managing the barest hint of makeup, popped a couple Tylenol, and was now speed walking to work.

So Caroline was frazzled, and cranky, and focused on the time on her phone's screen, rather than on where she was going. Truly, a recipe for disaster. She'd just reached the building where the Gala she was serving at was being held, and she had less than sixty seconds to get to the back entrance and slip inside. Caroline took a corner quickly, and her shoulder slammed into something,_someone_, as it turned out, causing her to stagger slightly before she caught her balance.

She turns to the person she'd just barged into, a flurry of apologies on the tip of her tongue. The person, a man who _did not_ share her qualms about the judgement of strangers, if the creative string of profanity spilling out of his mouth was anything to go by.

Not that she could blame him. Since he'd been carrying a large, square, case, and her crashing into him had caused him to drop it. Various little brightly colored tubes and brushes, things that looked like makeup sponges, had spilled out, scattering and rolling across the pavement.

Caroline had frozen, seeing the mess, and clapped a hand over her mouth.

The man had crouched down, and was gathering up his belongings. He cast irritated eyes up at her, and some part of Caroline's brain noted that he was _very_attractive, full lipped and blue eyed. And then he spoke, ruining all that handsome. Because while the accent was _also_ appealing, the tone and words he used were definitely not, "Well? Are you just going to stand there dithering? A little help, sometime this century, would be much appreciated. Since your clumsiness and lack of attention caused this."

Caroline dropped her hand and narrowed her eyes into a glare. Sure, he had a point but was being such a dick about it really necessary? "Look, I'm sorry. I'm running late and…"

"I don't care, sweetheart," he gave her a once over, eying her white shirt, black pants and pulled back hair dismissively, "I'm sure your evening plans are scintillating. It is tax season, perhaps you've a hot date with a calculator? But some of us have actually important engagements, so be a dear and pick up a few things, would you?"

Caroline's jaw dropped at his nerve, "Excuse you, this is a uniform, you jackass. Rest assured, that out of it? I'd blow your mind."

He raises a brow at that and looks at her once more, lingering a little longer in the chest area. And yeah, ordinarily that would piss her off but she'd kind of invited it. Also, let him eat his heart out because the odds of her ever giving him the time of day after this were slim to none.

The guy's just about to say something else, but Caroline's so done with him so she cuts him off, "Now, I am sorry for running into you. But it was an accident. And yeah, Emily Post and my southern upbringing say that I should help you. But you're a douche and I have somewhere to be. So bye."

Caroline spun away from him, sort of wishing her hair was down, because a toss of her curls would have made her badass exit slightly more satisfying, and stomped away.

Her boss gives Caroline an unimpressed look when she rushes into the kitchen, but waves Caroline's apologies away with a grudging, "Just don't let it happen again, and get to work!"

Caroline falls into the rhythm of set up easily, methodically laying out cutlery. She's just retrieving the place cards and seating chart when one of the newer girls intercepts her. April's sweet, a bit shy, and currently the color of a ripe tomato, "Caroline! Could you please, please, please, take this tray into the models? They're… naked." The other girl's eyes had darted around, her voice dropping to a whisper on the last word. And Caroline did remember something about 'living art' being a part of this event.

With a mental shrug, she trades April, emphasizing that the seating chart must be followed _exactly_, and heads down the hall April had indicated. Balking at a little nudity wasn't exactly Caroline's style and April was always up for a shift trade so Caroline figured protecting the other girl's delicate, Pastor's daughter, sensibilities was the least she could do.

Pasting on a polite, customer service smile, Caroline quietly slips into the room and begins arranging the food. She sneaks peeks as she does so, though no one pays her much mind. There's six models, two are fully painted and coiffed, standing somewhat awkwardly in the center of the room. Caroline can't really blame them, going first would have to have sucked as there's not much they can do without smudging off the paint that covers them.

She can't help but study them briefly, surprised by how beautiful, and weirdly tasteful the work is. They're naked but it's somehow not in your face or salacious at all.

There are four other people in the room, two on the far side that she gathers are hair stylists, and they're busy with two of the models, gluing what looks like fabric leaves and beads onto tall, elaborate up-dos.

The final two models are standing on stools, being painted by the artists, both of whom have their backs to Caroline. One's a diminutive woman with pink hair, the other a man with dark blonde curls and very nice shoulders, displayed in a light grey shirt. And it's him she ends up paying attention to. Something about the way he moves (and the way he fills out his jeans…) keeps drawing her eye back to him. She wonders for a moment what it would be like to be the girl being painted, to have all of the attractive stranger's focus on her bare skin.

Sexual fantasies at work were probably a no-no but Caroline's imagination would not be denied. Hey, she's been single for months now, and this was primo fantasy fodder.

She watches as he steps back, surveys his work for a moment, before he seems satisfied, and offers his hand to the model to help her down. He says something quietly and the model laughs, in a distinctly flirtatious way.

Either he works fast, or the hair stylists are behind, because he seems at a loss for a moment, before he turns and notices her.

And Caroline wants to slap herself for being such an idiot. Because the guy she'd just been ogling appreciatively is the same asshole she'd run into earlier. Really, the painting paraphernalia should have had her making the connection immediately. But no, she'd just spent a solid five minutes having dirty thoughts about the corded muscles in his forearms and his probably dexterous fingers (because artists totally had those, right?)

Such a waste because she had no desire to _ever_ speak to him again.

Although, a little voice that sounded distinctly like Kat pointed out, none of said dirty thoughts technically involved conversation…

But he recognizes her immediately, and shoots her a grin, before striding over, "Fancy meeting you here, love."

Caroline wonders how polite she has to be. He's not technically a guest, right? He's the help at this thing, just like her. So she ignores him, pointedly gathering the various garbage that unwrapping the food had produced, and makes to leave.

He sidesteps around her quickly, and put himself right in her path, "Come now, don't be like that. We had a little spat, I'm over it."

Caroline lets her expression show exactly how unimpressed she is with that startling lack of apology for his earlier jerkitude.

He grimaces slightly, and she gives him a fraction of a point for reading her "I am very displeased" signals better than a past boyfriend or two, "I apologize for snapping at you. You weren't the only one who was late to a work commitment, you see."

Caroline shifts her weight, slightly, crosses her arms, "I was going to say sorry, you know. And help you pick up your things. You just didn't give me the chance."

"I know, I know. It was unforgivably rude. But this is technically my first job of this sort. The money's very good and I was already worried that being late meant I'd fucked things up and I took it out on you."

Caroline looks back at the painted models, "Well, I know zilch about art but I think you're talented."

He smiles, a little shy, and so different from the arrogant man she'd met outside. Caroline finds herself warming to him. Just a smidge.

"Thank you. The other artist," he nods to the pink haired woman who was just finishing up, "kindly covered for me, and I felt like a prick immediately after you left."

"You should have," Caroline sniffed, "The outfit's terrible on purpose. And I wouldn't be caught dead in it unless I was being paid. I'm supposed to basically be furniture at these things."

He laughs softly, "As if that's possible. But I suppose the wives would be quite perturbed if their husbands paid too much attention to the beautiful woman serving the food. Because even in a room full of gowns and jewels I'm quite sure my eyes would be drawn to you."

Caroline blinks at the compliment, feels her face heat, at a loss for how to respond, cursing him for being charming and crazy hot. How was she supposed to hold a grudge against all of that?

His attention is caught by the final two models shrugging out of their robes, "Ah, duty calls. My name is Klaus, by the way. Have I acquitted myself sufficiently enough to earn your name, love?"

"It's Caroline," she finds herself replying.

"Caroline," he repeats it, slowly lingering over the 'L' in a way that she shouldn't find hot, "it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Would you consider going out with me, once this event is over? I'll be around for touchups and such, and can wait for you to be finished? I know a great twenty four hour place that has the best pie you'll ever have."

"What? Why?" Caroline asks incredulously.

Klaus shrugs, scratches absently as some dried paint on his wrist, "I find that I quite like your sharp tongue, love. I'd like to talk with you some more, but it's up to you, of course."

"I'll think about it," Caroline tells him, unwilling to cave quite so easily. She'd loathed him an hour ago, after all.

But, as a person who didn't always make the greatest of first impressions herself maybe, just maybe, she could give him a shot?

Caroline thinks about little else the rest of the night, thankful that she's done this job enough to muddle through on autopilot. She's too busy to speak to Klaus again, though she catches his eye a few times. He smiles at her, sometimes commiserating, because somehow he'd picked up on the strain dealing with so many people used to their whims being catered to always caused her to feel, and sometimes he seemed just genuinely happy with her presence, however fleeting, as they passed one another.

The first few smiles Caroline had avoided, still confused as to whether she liked him or not. Then she began returning them. At first tentatively, then more genuinely as the night wore on.

Klaus had been true to his word, and when she'd exited the back entrance he'd been leaning against the building, hands stuffed in his pockets. Caroline regarded him for a moment, came to a decision. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and shook it out.

He looked kind of mesmerized, and what girl didn't like that?

"I believe you offered me pie? Now, I have very high standards for that particular food, so fair warning, I doubt _I'll_ think it's the best ever."

Klaus pushed himself off of the wall and waited for her to fall into step with him, "Challenge accepted, love. And if it's not, well then I guess I'll have to keep trying."

The pie was pretty good, but the conversation had been better. And when Klaus offered to walk her home, Caroline accepted. And when his fingers had brushed hers, she'd grabbed his hand and hadn't let go, and if both of them smiled like sappy idiots at least no one was around to notice.


	10. dark skies tell no lies

**Notes: **A sequel to "we're better if we weather it" (the first drabble in Chapter 8) the one where Klaroline are roommates and Caroline's afraid of storms. Because my brain just could not focus on any of the ongoing fics today.

**dark skies, tell no lies**

**(Loosely inspired by a prompt from thetourguidebarbie: "The 'I always feel bad watching spiders drown in the shower so if I see one I have to rescue it and this one is being **_**really **_**stubborn and seems to just want to stay stuck to the wall and so this is how you found me with my towel half off on the floor of the dorm's communal bathroom trying to convince a spider to get onto my hand' AU." Title from "Stormy" by Hedley. Smut.)**

The next morning got… weird.

The day had dawned sunny and beautiful, birds actually chirping, outside Klaus' window, the sounds of the city muted, since it was only just waking up.

High above it all, Caroline had stirred, bits and pieces of some extremely good dreams drifting away. Cracking her eyes open she realized, with some dismay, that she was still draped across Klaus bare chest. And, mortifyingly, one of her hands was resting very, low on his stomach. Like, almost touching certain, uh, _engorged_, private pants areas, low.

Caroline had been pretty tempted to move her hand to a slightly more PG rated place, close her eyes, and go back to sleep. Because she was comfy, damn it. And it was way easier to ignore what a jackass Klaus usually was when he was a.) silent and b.) a really yummy smelling human pillow.

And he'd said he had to work early right? So maybe he'd creep off while she was still sleeping and then Caroline could ignore the fact that this this whole thing ever happened. She'd go back to sniping at him (because he was clearly out to get her, and her willpower, with all the gourmet chocolate he left in plain sight!), he'd go back to antagonizing her. Boom, status quo achieved, weirdness removed.

She'd thought it was a brilliant idea. But, of course, Klaus lived to ruin her tidy, orderly, well thought out, plans.

"You know, the polite thing to do would be to move your hand, love. If you're not going to help a bloke take care of the problem, that is," the rough sleepy drawl from Klaus was mostly amused, but Caroline had been pretty sure there'd been a little note of hope, too.

Which, come on. It was going to take way more than one night of surprising sensitivity to make Caroline willing to do non-roommate things with Klaus. No matter how delicious he looked, sleep mused and languidly stretching, or how good he felt pressed against her.

So Caroline had recoiled, both from Klaus and from her own twinge of interest, and shoved him away. Sitting up, bringing her hands up to cover her chest (since sometimes her boobs made a run for it in her sleep), she'd snarled, "In your dreams, Klaus."

And of course, he shamelessly watched her straighten her top. Caroline made a mental note to wear a bra, should she ever be forced into this situation again.

"Mmm. I do believe I confessed something to that effect," Klaus murmured, his eyes drifting lazily up to her face.

Would it kill him to be at least a little embarrassed about it? God, she'd rather have three consecutive root canals than give Klaus the satisfaction of confessing to the hot, sweaty sex dreams she had about him semi-frequently.

It was the proximity, and his aversion to being decently covered. That was all.

Caroline threw him a dirty look, intending to storm out (and hide the coffee, because petty revenge felt freaking great, sometimes) but Klaus sat up and grabbed her hand, halting her progress. "What?" she snapped.

He gave her a smile, almost sweet, that showed his dimples to their best advantage (seriously, did he practice that in the mirror?). "Good morning, Caroline. Sleep well? May I say that you look stunning in this light?"

Caroline rolled her eyes, but he did not release her hand. Did, in fact, twine his fingers with hers. Caroline glared, annoyed, but Klaus continued watching her, seemingly waiting for a response. She took a breath, pasted a smile on and chirped, "Good morning, Klaus. I'm pretty sure I look terrible, but way to try to get into my pants via empty flattery. Thanks again, for being cool last night." Caroline made herself drop the slight hostility on the last part, because she hadn't been born in a barn.

"You're welcome, Caroline. And I meant it. My door's open, if you're ever in need of comforting."

She eyed him suspiciously, but found no trace of innuendo, not an eyebrow wiggle or a smirk. Finally she nodded, once, and Klaus released her hand.

He threw of the covers, and got out of bed, leaving her sitting on it, still a little discomfited by his behaviour. He grabbed his towel and turned to her, and this time there was a little smirk, curling his lips, "And you're beautiful Caroline, I'd never say it if I didn't mean it."

He sauntered out of the room, leaving her gaping after him, and Caroline heard the shower start up moments later.

_Ugh_. He knew she liked to have the last word!

And then things got weirder. In Caroline's head, if not in reality. That first morning she'd totally expected Klaus to have a marathon shower and leave her to shiver through an icy one. But he'd been quick, had nodded amiably, saying, "It's all yours, love," when he'd passed her in the hallway, towel knotted loosely, tauntingly, at his waist.

That towel had totally dominated her shower thoughts. And what Klaus would have done if she'd shoved him against the wall, and traced the beads of water that dripped down his chest, with her tongue.

And then, for the next couple weeks, it seemed like Klaus was kind of making an effort? It wasn't overnight or anything, but he became more tolerable. He was tidier, he didn't pick fights, he seemed to have a sixth sense for when she was having a shitty day, and brought home her favorite things (and how did he know all of them?!) for dinner.

Sometimes Caroline heard The Twilight Zone theme music in her head.

And then they started having actual conversations. About him, and about her, about things they agreed on, and the (way more numerous) things they disagreed on. He still laughed at her, sometimes, but he laughed at her jokes too. And Caroline found herself more and more captivated by the way his hands moved when he told stories, the little crinkle around his eyes when he was trying not to smile too widely and the sound of his voice when he was particularly passionate about a subject.

And yeah, her dirty thoughts and fantasies increased exponentially, and sometimes she couldn't meet his eyes first thing in the morning, with all of them still whirling through her head.

Stupid hormones.

And then another storm warning came, and Klaus mentioned that his door would be open, casual as can be.

And when Caroline had tiptoed into his room, he'd lifted the blanket, and invited her under them. Klaus had opened his arms, she'd practically dove into him, and he'd made shushing noises and rubbed her back through the worst of the thunder and lightning, until she'd been able to fall asleep.

And this time, when Caroline had woken up, it had been Klaus' hands that had done the wandering, one possessively cupping her breast. Drowsy and aroused, she'd arched into the touch, the scrape of his thumb against her nipple sending hot little stabs of need through her. She'd moaned his name and Klaus had frozen, stammered an apology, and rolled away from her.

And maybe seeing the usually unflappable Klaus Mikaelson, pink cheeked and chagrined, after feeling her up in his sleep, was kind of satisfying. But she really hadn't wanted him to stop. Caroline had wanted him to peel her top off, and use his mouth. But Klaus was gone, before she could tell him that, leaving her alone, and turned on, in his bed.

Maybe she should just stay? And strip. Caroline's pretty sure there'd be no mistaking that hint.

But before she can decide to do so, she hears a strange, panicked noise, coming from the bathroom. Almost a shriek.

Caroline got out of bed, concerned, and walked down the hallway. Klaus was quiet, so she relaxed, but then she heard thumps. It sounded like things hitting the wall, and the tub.

She knocked gently on the door, "Klaus? Are you okay?"

"Fine," he calls back, but he stutters it. "I'm fine, Caroline!"

"You don't sound fine. Can I come in?"

Her hand was already on the doorknob, and she barely waited for his hesitant permission. Inside the small room, Klaus was nearly pressed against the wall opposite the tub, a hand holding his towel up, his face set to revulsion, as he stared hard at something in the shower.

Caroline took a second to ogle the strip of bare hip and thigh Klaus was revealing, the towel hanging open under his fist, before she tore her eyes away, and followed his gaze.

To the large centipede, that's clinging to the tiles.

Caroline's wasn't proud of it, but her first instinct might have been to laugh. She'd sort of thought that Klaus had been joking, about his phobia, trying to make her feel better. But the rigid lines of him, the harsh way he swallowed as his eyes tracked the bug, told her that he definitely wasn't just being nice. He was sincerely freaked out. And he hadn't laughed at her, so no way would she be an asshole, and let that first instinct win.

"Okay," Caroline said quietly, trying to sound soothing. "It's okay," she grabbed a hunk of toilet paper, making an effort to move slowly, and continued narrating, "A deal's a deal, right? So I'll just squish this guy," Klaus flinched at the sound, "and then we'll flush him." Klaus relaxed marginally, once that was done, and Caroline grabbed the Lysol wipes from underneath the sink, taking two and scrubbing away any evidence that the centipede had even existed.

She washed her hands, watching Klaus in the mirror behind her. He looked embarrassed again, but to a far greater degree, avoiding her eyes when they tried to catch his.

Caroline stepped toward him, once she'd finished, and he'd let out a rueful laugh, running a still shaky hand through his hair, "What you must think of me, sweetheart," he'd muttered.

"Hey, no," Caroline protested, grabbing his hand, before he could drop it to his side. She'd pulled him gently towards her, so she could wrap her arms around him, "Someone once told me that fears aren't rational."

Klaus returned the hug, tentatively, one hand still clutching the towel that covered him, "Well, that was before that someone groped you in your sleep, so I thank you for still indulging my silly fear."

Caroline pulled back so she could look at him, "I was going to tell you, before you bolted, that I didn't mind."

Klaus' eyebrows rose, in shock and intrigue, and Caroline dragged her hands down, to play with the edge of his towel,

"The groping?" Klaus asked, and released his hold on the towel when she gave it a tug, letting it drop to the floor.

"The groping," Caroline confirmed, pulling back enough to strip her tank off. Klaus' hands were on her, then. Spanning her hips and sliding up her ribcage to cup her breasts. Caroline's head dropped back with a sigh as he toyed with her nipples.

She kept her eyes open, watching his face, the way he licked his lips and seemed fascinated by the sight of his hands on her. The clench of his jaw when her fingers danced over the trail of hair that led down, the flutter of his lashes when she wrapped her hand around his cock.

Klaus moaned her name as she stroked up the length of him, to thumbs the head, his hips jolting into her hand. He stepped into her, pushing her backwards, his hands frantically shoving her sleep shorts and panties down. Caroline bumped into the counter, and he'd lifted her onto it, ducking his head and littering kisses down her throat.

Her hand on his cock moves faster in response, but Klaus brushes it away, pants out a, "Not yet."

Klaus pushed her knees apart, stepping between them. Caroline's head hit the mirror when she leaned back, when he'd finally sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue lashing at the peak. Her hands had scrabbled at his shoulders, clutching at him, trying to get him closer.

Caroline let out a breathless laugh, as he went lower, nipping along her ribcage, realizing that Klaus hadn't even kissed her yet.

He pulled back, looked at her with a question in his eyes, but her grip on him didn't allow him to go far, "This isn't how I pictured this happening," she tells him.

Klaus' hand paused, high on her thigh, and Caroline's hips rocked forward in protest, "Do you want to stop?" he asked, voice gravely, expression apprehensive.

Caroline shook her head instantly, grabbed his wrist and led his hand higher, letting out a whimper when his fingers grazed her, "No, I don't want to stop, I don't want to slow down. I want you to kiss me, and touch me."

Klaus eyes were dark, and he'd been breathing raggedly, he'd stroked her folds, parting them, before lowering his mouth to hers, swallowing the whine she made when he'd slipped two fingers inside of her, his thumb finding her clit.

"I've pictured this," Klaus had murmured, looking down at his hand touching her, at her hips rolling to meet his motions. "Pictured you, like this, on the counter. And in the shower. Spread out in my bed, begging for my tongue. In yours, too. Slow and lazy, you're legs wrapped around me. Followed by fast and wild, your nails scoring my back. You, riding me on the couch. Me, bending you over the kitchen island. I've thought of it all. I want it all."

Caroline moaned at his words, at the images that he'd put into her head.

Then his mouth was on her nipple again, she'd jerked at the hint of teeth, writhed as his thumb rolled over her clit with the perfect amount of pressure.

"Can I have it, Caroline?" he'd murmured, looking up at her. "Can I have you?"

She'd nodded, taking great gulps of air, her climax so close she'd been trembling, because she wanted everything he could give her. All of his dirty thoughts, and all of hers, too.

"Good," it came out low, and guttural, and Klaus had dropped to his knees, holding her thighs apart as he's licked her. Her hands clenched the countertop, needing something to hold on to as his name, and curses, and pleas, spilled from her lips as he took her apart with just a few swipes of his tongue.

She'd shivered through an orgasm, collapsed in a sweaty, panting mess, against the mirror. Couldn't even begrudge Klaus the smug way he'd surveyed her, as his hands had kneaded her thighs.

Caroline sat up as her heartrate slowed, noted the way his eyes had turned wary, like he half expected her to say thanks, and walk away. But Caroline had been far from done with him. She'd let her eyes track down his body, bit her lip teasingly, gaze lingering on where his cock was hard and beyond ready. "What's next?" she'd asked playfully. "Shower's convenient, but I'm thinking we save that for when we're dirtier."

Klaus let out a groan, closing his eyes briefly. Caroline eased off the counter, rocked up to suck on his lower lip, pressed her bare chest against his. She'd sighed in approval when he's sunk his hand into her hair, angles her head to take the kiss deeper, hotter. "Bed," he'd nearly growled, running his hand down her back, when she'd pulled away to breathe. "Mine first," he'd said decisively, "then the kitchen."

Caroline had grinned up at him, "Good plan. Your bed's bigger," before she'd strolled out of the bathroom, confident that Klaus wouldn't be far behind.


	11. The Laine Tries to Beat a Block Drabbles

**Notes: **So updates have been a wee bit scarce from me, due to some pesky writer's block. I've been writing drabbles on Tumblr though, and here's the latest three. Pretty sure they will have have continuations at some point. Enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**Take My Body Home**

**(**_**Dead Like Me**_** inspired AU in which Caroline is a grim reaper. Title from "In My Time of Dyin'" by Bob Dylan. Rated K+.)**

Everything has been grey, since Henrik died.

Kol does not laugh, Rebekah does not smile.

Klaus eats, when food is set in front of him, he fetches water, when their supply has run low. He tries not to listen to his mother's soft weeping. He can hear it, though Esther has mostly locked herself away. He ignores the glares of his father, as he always has, though they are blacker and more hateful than ever before.

He knows that he deserves it.

Klaus keeps his head down, as he leaves home, buckets in hand. He does not want to see their friends and neighbors. Does not want to read the pity in their gazes.

Tonight is the full moon, and Klaus dreads the close quarters of the caves, the condolences he will surely be forced to hear, the grace he will have to muster to accept.

Henrik is dead, and it is his fault.

His feet know the path to the wells, the dirt is worn and smooth and poses no danger, so Klaus pays no attention to his surroundings. Until he is jostled, his shoulder colliding with another. The empty bucket drops, Klaus' eyes to fly up, an apology for his clumsiness on his lips.

He never manages to utter it. Golden hair, blue eyes, flushed cheeks. A green dress. Klaus does not know this girl, but she is color and light and it startles him. He averts his gaze from her brightness.

She is the one who apologizes, and crouches to pick up the bucket Klaus had dropped, before he can think to do it himself.

She hands it back to him, and her free hand traces his bare forearm. Awfully forward, for a stranger and Klaus is shocked by the sensation. He feels heat, an itch. But only for a moment, so brief he thinks he has just been listening to Rebekah, and her fanciful notions of romance, far too often.

Love at first sight is an idea for silly girls, and Klaus is a grown man.

Still, he watches her walk away, her steps light and graceful. He wonders about her name, how she had come to this village, when so few outsiders do.

It is the first faint stirring of interest, in anyone or anything, that Klaus has felt in a month.

* * *

She is the last thing Klaus expected to see, when he awakens, gasping for breath. She is seated, on the floor of his family home, watching him with curious eyes.

"Something is not right," she says, and her accent is foreign, unlike anything Klaus has ever heard.

His hand flies up to his chest, where a hole should be, as his gaze finds Rebekah, pale and still next to him.

"She is dead," the strange, beautiful girl tells him, "and yet she is not. Like you. Tell me, do you have magic?"

Klaus ignores her, kneels next to Rebekah. Her skin is smooth and unmarred, where the sword had pierced it, though the hole in her dress remains.

"I am supposed to take your souls, and yet I cannot. They remain stubbornly tethered to your bodies. It must be magic. The dark and unnatural kind. Did you do it?"

"Why does she not wake?" Klaus demands, shaking Rebekah.

The girl merely shrugs, "I could not tell you. This is beyond my experience. I suspect she will, eventually. As you did."

She speaks as though Rebekah is inconsequential, as though her death does not matter, and Klaus feels his temper build. Many men would cower from the heated glare he sends her, but not this girl. Her head tips to the side, and her study of him only intensifies, her lips curving, "Oh, yes. You are interesting. But you are not a witch."

"No," Klaus confirms, "my mother is. My brother and sister, but not I."

"Then I suppose it is not you to whom I should direct my anger."

"You don't seem angry."

"I used to be. Now I just read the names, and I go where I am sent."

"Names?" Klaus asks, confused.

"Yours, Niklaus Mikaelson. You sister, Rebekah. Mikael, Finn, Elijah, Kol. Henrik, at the last full moon."

Klaus freezes, for a moment. No one has spoken his brother's name aloud since they had laid him to rest. But then he reaches for her, instinctively, needing to know more. But something is not right, his body feels wrong, unfamiliar, and she uses his momentary befuddlement to her advantage, standing and dancing backwards a few steps. "He was a lovely boy," she tells him, voice soft and eyes sad. "It is always hard when they are so young."

"You took him?" it comes out accusing, guttural and pained.

"It was his time. As is should have been yours."

"Please. Take me to him."

She averts her eyes, and when she looks back at him, the blue is shiny and regretful as she shakes her head.

"Please," Klaus asks again, unable to feel shame at the way he is begging.

"It is impossible, I cannot. I am very sorry."

That is not good enough, for Klaus. He wants answers, will do anything to get them but he senses movement behind him and he whirls. Rebekah arches up from the floor, a groan torn from her throat, eyes wild and searching, "Nik," she chokes out, her hand, stained with dried blood, clutching at her throat.

He goes to Rebekah, lays a soothing hand on her shoulder, and when he turns around, the girl with the blue eyes is gone.

And she'd never even told him her name.

**magnets pull me in**

**(Prompt from klarolineforevermine: ****kc + Hogwarts AU. "You were injured in a quidditch match and I'm the first one to visit you in the hospital wing when you wake up." Title from "Magician" by Jefferson Starship. Rated K+)**

The hospital wing was silent, and dark, beyond the light from the candles Caroline had lit. She was trying to study, mostly failing.

Madame Pomfrey, just a year or two from retirement, and desperately in need of a trainee, had gone to bed an hour or so ago. She'd left Caroline a list of things to watch out for, and instructions to summon her immediately if Klaus' condition worsened. So of course, Caroline's eyes had barely left Klaus, obsessively scanning his face, for signs of distress, and watching his chest, bare save for some bandages over his right side, rise and fall.

She hadn't known about the tattoo, and would never admit to finding the flapping wings, and gentle motion of the feather, fascinating.

Caroline smothered a yawn, rubbed her eyes, before glancing down at the book in her lap. She wished she was snuggled under her own blankets, instead of sitting cross legged on an unoccupied bed, pushed next to the one Klaus laid in. But Caroline had volunteered for this, had no one to blame but herself, and her too soft heart. She'd come to check on Klaus before bed (he was her housemate, and she was Head Girl. She was basically obligated, okay?). She'd found little Rebekah Mikaelson arguing heatedly with Professor Nott. The girl had flat out refused to leave Klaus alone, and a fiercer, more stubborn, twelve year old Caroline had never met. But Rebekah had clearly been exhausted, by the events of the day. She'd been to her first Hogwarts Quidditch match, seen her brother's fall, and had to fight through the shouting crowd to get to his side. Her eyes had still been puffy and red rimmed from the crying she'd done.

Caroline had taken pity, and promised to stay until Klaus woke up, and to get Rebekah immediately if anything went wrong. It had nothing to do with the sneaking suspicion Caroline had that sleep wouldn't come easy for her, that she'd toss and turn with her own worries. The younger girl had looked at Caroline with suspicious blue eyes, but Rebekah had reluctantly left, with a hard stare that promised retribution, should any harm befall her brother on Caroline's watch.

And while Caroline was confident in her ability to fend Rebekah off _now_, she had no doubt that the girl was capable of putting her vengeance on hold, until her magical capabilities were a match for Caroline's. It was the Slytherin thing to do, and Caroline both understood and respected that.

Caroline's eyes wandered from her book, looking at Klaus critically. He hadn't exhibited any of the warning signs Madame Pomfrey had enumerated, so far seeming okay, just occasionally shifting restlessly. His breathing was normal and he didn't seem to be in any severe pain.

A mean part of Caroline thought he kind of deserved a little pain, for being such a reckless idiot on the pitch today. Hopefully landing on the bottom of a pile made up of a chaser, and a particularly bulky beater, both from Hufflepuff, would teach Klaus a lesson in caution.

Caroline doubted it, truthfully. But maybe a couple of lectures from her, and some quality puppy eyes from Rebekah, would drive the message home. Or maybe Caroline would research some kind of spell. Could you make people bounce? Maybe some sort of charm on the Quidditch gear, to slow the descent when a player was in free fall? There had to be something, and she _did_ have a final project that she was determined would be beyond impressive. Caroline turned to a fresh page, and began to scribble a list of ideas.

Because as annoying as Klaus was, Caroline had nearly had a heart attack today, when she'd seen him fall from his broom. And she had way too many plans and aspirations to be okay with dying at seventeen. Klaus would be getting a big peace of her mind when he woke up. Both for landing in the hospital wing to begin with, and for distracting her from the Ancient Runes homework that was due on Monday.

Klaus stirred once again, drawing Caroline's attention from her notebook. She flicked her wand, shifting the floating candles, so the brightness wouldn't hurt Klaus' eyes if he opened them. A grimace crossed his face, and his eyelashes fluttered, but after a moment he settled back down into sleep. She chanced a quick glance at his arm, laid out on a pillow and immobilized, while the Skele-Gro worked. Bone mending sucked, as Caroline vividly remembered, from the pyramid disaster that had left her with a shattered femur and four broken fingers.

Her mother, who'd had no idea the wizarding world existed, prior to marrying Bill Forbes, didn't quite trust in its healing methods. But the accident had happened in July, and Liz had been unwilling to deal with her energetic thirteen year old daughter being housebound for two months, as recovery by muggle means would have required. A floo call to her father, a trip to the wizarding hospital in D.C., and Caroline had been as good as new the next day.

And she'd taken home three cheer camp trophies that summer, of course.

God, imagine if Klaus had to wait months to use his arm? She can only imagine how cranky he'd be. Klaus wasn't the most even tempered guy to begin with, and he frequently scared the younger students, if they dared to speak with him before 10 AM, off with sharp words and vicious glares.

Totally not cool for a prefect, in Caroline's opinion. Which she'd shared with Klaus. Repeatedly.

It was probably something of a blessing he was sleeping through the worst of the bone regrowing. Caroline's sure Klaus would reach new levels of insufferable, tied down and in pain. He'd say something rude, and she'd respond. She was completely incapable of not responding, when Klaus began picking at her. He knew exactly what buttons to push, and delighted in poking and prodding until she had to walk away, or risk a little accidental magic.

And Caroline knew she was too old for that kind of loss of control, but he just made her so mad. And it would totally serve Klaus right to end up bald or covered in fuchsia boils if she snapped.

Perhaps his pack of fawning admirers would thin if he wasn't so pretty.

Klaus made a noise, and the fingers on his mending arm twitched. A good sign, according to Madame Pomfrey, and Caroline felt her anxiety lift.

Caroline bit her lip, and put her hand on Klaus' good arm, pressing her fingertips to the pulse there, comforted by how strong and steady it was, how warm his skin felt. He'd probably tease her endlessly, if he saw her fretting over him. Probably make some lame innuendo about all the ways she could make his pulse race.

She was only worried about her grades, Caroline told herself. They had a transfiguration project to finish, after all, and Klaus might be full of himself, but he was smart, and actually did his fair share of the work, unlike numerous other people she'd been forced to do group projects. Plus it was her job to worry about her fellow students. Totally in the Head Girl job description. All excellent reasons for her concern.

That possibly didn't explain why she kept touching him, but then no one else was here to know that, were they?

It was just a little unnerving to see Klaus like this, pale and bruised and silent. That's why she was finding it difficult to focus on anything else for very long. As often as Caroline storms off from their near daily arguments, cursing Klaus' inability to just shut up, for once in his life, she sort of wishes he'd open his eyes and say something. One of his stupid pet names, a comment about her excessive use of adverbs, a jab at her addiction to Chocoballs (and really, who was he kidding? Caroline wasn't blind to the way he watched her lick escaped strawberry mousse and clotted cream from her fingertips).

But Caroline firmly believed that the whole 'boys are mean because they like you' thing should not be rewarded. Whether the lusty eyes meant Klaus was into her body, or if he was actually interested in her, (and she occasionally caught him glancing at her semi-adoringly, so it was possible) Caroline wasn't going to be swayed by his pigtail pulling BS. Sure, she occasionally found herself genuinely amused by him, and she maybe found his relationship with Rebekah cute as hell. And yeah, he was super easy on the eyes. So were a lot of people.

Caroline shook her head, and threw herself down on the bed, tearing her eyes from Klaus. None of the entries on the 'pro' list meant anything if she couldn't have a decent conversation (aka not a fight, however flirty their fights sometimes got) with Klaus, once in a while.

If, and it was a big if, Klaus could ever manage to approach her in a non-antagonistic way, Caroline would maybe consider the tangled ball of complicated feelings he inspired. But as of right now, she wasn't sure it would be worth the effort.

Turning her head, to watch Klaus once again (because it _was_ technically her job, while she was here), Caroline stretched her legs out, and absently noted how comfortable the bed was.

She closed her eyes, intending just to rest them, for a moment. Or two.

Or several, as it turned out, when Caroline was jolted awake by a stream of curse words, coming from about two feet to her left.

The candles had burnt down considerably, and she sat up, letting out an, "Oh, shit!" of her own.

Klaus was struggling, half on his side, his free arm clawing at the bindings on his injured one. Caroline hopped out of bed, and put her hand on his chest, shoving him (and oops, she should probably have been a little more gentle, but there was a reason she had no interest in being a mediwitch) onto his back once more.

"Stay still," she told him sternly, "you're not supposed to get out of bed yet."

Klaus blinked up at her, "Caroline?"

"Um, yeah? Good to know you don't have amnesia, I guess."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, confused, body tense under her hand. "What am I doing here? Is this the hospital wing? Are you hurt?"

"Hmm. Possible brain damage," Caroline noted aloud and Klaus' eyes narrowed dangerously. Some people might cower, from the heated look, but Caroline was kind of glad. Grumpy Klaus she could deal with, adorably bewildered, but somehow concerned for _her_ welfare Klaus freaked her out.

"My brain is fine. Just a bit muddled, is all. The last thing I remember was putting on my Quidditch pads."

"That's because you fell off of your broom, and hit the ground, and then two people fell on you. Good news: you broke their fall and no Hufflepuffs were injured. Bad news: you ended up a super gross pancake and the bones in your arm basically turned to powder. Good news: you should be mostly fine by morning."

Klaus glanced down at his arm, flexed his fingers and let out a pained little grunt, "Mostly?"

"Yep. They don't tell you, but you'll be pretty stiff for a week or two. Or at least I was. Made doing hurdlers a bitch. Try to weasel a muscle relaxant out of Madame Pomfrey. I had to use Tylenol and it didn't work so well."

"What's that?"

"Muggle pill," Caroline explained, assuming he meant 'Tylenol.' Because she so wasn't up for explain cheerleading right now. "Used for aches and pains and headaches. Not as effective as magic remedies, but no gross taste to deal with either."

"Oh," Klaus glanced down at her hand, which was still resting on his chest. On the skin, and had she ever touched him like that before? Caroline didn't think so.

She snatched her hand back, taking a step away, feeling a blush crawl across her face, "Oops. Sorry. But try not to move so much."

She braced herself for Klaus' usual teasing, was pleasantly surprised when he let it slide, "I'll try. Where is Madame Pomfrey?"

"Bed."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing around the corner of his mouth, "And you volunteered to nurse me back to health? I knew you liked me, love."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "Please. Don't flatter yourself. I'm just a nice person, even if some people don't deserve it. Madame Pomfrey's too old to be staying up babysitting boys who can't stay on their brooms, and your poor sister's too young. She wouldn't leave you alone, though."

The smug look dropped off his face, and Klaus winced, "Bekah saw me fall? Was she very upset?"

"At first? Yeah. Kol found her pretty quick, distracted her. She was better once she knew it was just some broken bones."

"I'm pretty sure I'll have quite the list of things to purchase, as penance, next Hogsmeade weekend."

Caroline let out a soft laugh, "That sounds about right."

"Would you like to accompany me?"

It was Caroline's turn to be bewildered, and her mouth opened and closed a few times. Did Klaus just ask her out? All casual like? Was it the concussion, maybe? "Um, what? That's like a month away, Klaus. Your arm will be fine by then."

"I'm aware of that, Caroline. Perhaps I just desire your company? Surely you've noted my interest."

"Of course I have, I'm not an idiot,"

"Then why the skepticism?"

"Because you've seemed pretty committed to the whole annoying me to death thing."

"And that's gotten me nowhere, though you're particularly lovely when you're angry."

"I'm way too smart to be seduced by you," Caroline told him, pinning him with an unimpressed look.

Klaus smiled, open and almost shy, "That's why I like you."

Caroline sat back on the bed, and picked up her book. She fought a smile, when Klaus cleared his throat, a few minutes later, "So was that a no, then?"

"It wasn't a no," she told him, idly flipping a page. "But it wasn't a yes."

"So…" Klaus drew the syllable out, sounding apprehensive, "It was a maybe?"

"It was a 'try being nice, though I know that's a strain for you, and then ask me again.' And then we'll see."

Caroline snuck a peek at him, found him nodding to himself, a determined expression on his face, "Challenge accepted, love," Klaus voice dropped, to nearly a purr, "I'm sure you'll find I can be _very_ nice."

Caroline refused to react to the promise in his tone, but her pulse sped, just a little.

**oh how strange**

**(Prompt from an anon: ****Would you do a werewolf! puppy Klaus AU? Where Klaus is spelled into turning into a cute werewolf puppy and Caroline has to take care of him and search for a witch to undo the spell. Title from "Strange" by Patsy Cline. Rated T.)**

Caroline Forbes was well versed in weird, had experienced all sorts of abnormal, in the years since she'd learned that impossible things, monsters and magic, were real and all around her.

So when Enzo walked into her apartment, with a body slung over his shoulder, and a struggling bundle of fur under his opposite arm, she wasn't immediately alarmed. Caroline just sort of hoped he hadn't run into the building manager, because she'd hate to have to compel him. Again.

She studied Enzo, and he didn't seem anxious or scared, so Caroline was pretty sure that she wouldn't be needing to call the cavalry. She'd long since given up trying to predict what Enzo would get up to, on any given day, so this was only like a level yellow on the weirdness scale. Besides, if there was no blood, it probably wasn't an emergency. Caroline glanced at the squirming animal, a sandy colored puppy, that was frantically trying to escape Enzo's hold, but decided that the body was probably the more pressing issue.

She put down her magazine, and stood up from the couch, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"Hello, Gorgeous," Enzo greeted her, with a nod, before flinging the body onto the cushions, unconcerned when the guy's legs dangled over the arm. He used his newly free hand to hold the puppy, who'd begun barking, more securely. "Found that one loitering around your building, all suspicious like. He's a vampire, but young enough that I took him out with no trouble. D'you know him?"

Leaning forward, Caroline peered at the face for a few moments, but he was not the least bit recognizable to her. She stepped back, shaking her head, "Nope. Never seen him before. And geez, Enzo, you can't just go around snapping necks. Maybe he was just checking out a vacant apartment."

Enzo scoffed, "Doubtful. There was definite sinister lingering happening. What about this guy?" Enzo hoisted the puppy to eye level, by the scruff of its neck. "Look familiar?"

The poor thing struggled, its little legs flailing as it whined. Caroline didn't know a whole lot about pets, but she reached for it automatically, scolding, "Don't be mean, Enzo!" before pulling the animal to her chest and stroking its back as it nosed at her neck, "Never seen the puppy either." She waited for a few moments than, thinking it must be sufficiently recovered from Enzo's manhandling, put the puppy on the floor before kneeling down and petting its head. It leaned happily into her touch, "What kind of dog do you think it is? And is it a boy or a girl?"

"I'm no expert but I think it's probably just a mutt with some shepherd in it. And the other thing's easy enough to check." Enzo crouched down and the puppy turned its head and growled, edging away. But Enzo ignored the warning, and to be fair it _was_ more cute than threatening, and reached out. The puppy snapped at Enzo's hand, when it neared, and darted around Caroline, pressing against her side.

She felt a laugh bubble up, "Looks like someone's a little shy."

Before Enzo could try again a phone began ringing, coming from somewhere on their temporarily dead visitor. Both Caroline and Enzo's heads twisted in that direction. "Um, should we get that?" Caroline asked.

"Might as well," Enzo replied. He tugged the stranger over enough to dig through his jacket pocket. He showed Caroline the screen, but no name was displayed. Caroline recognized the area code though, and a small alarm sounded in her brain. Surely it couldn't mean anything that a strange vampire had shown up, and was fielding calls from New Orleans?

Her little bout of denial was incredibly short lived, once Enzo answered the phone, and a very familiar voice blared out of the tiny speaker. Caroline closed her eyes in resignation, "Josh, are you there yet? I swear, if you've mucked this up I will happily spend decades upon decades, slowly unfurling your insides, in the most painful ways imaginable."

The puppy let out a series of sharp barks, and pawed at Caroline's hip.

"I do like a woman who's creative," Enzo murmured in reply, and Caroline rolled her eyes at the blatant flirtatiousness of it, "but your friend, Josh was it? Is a bit indisposed. May I take a message?"

"Who is this?" the tone had changed, from annoyed to menacing and Caroline winced. Enzo, of course, was unfazed, since he had only a passing knowledge of Rebekah Mikaelson, and the reasons why you didn't want to get on her bad side.

"Now that's rather rude," Enzo reprimanded, "after all, _you_ called _me_. I do believe that you should be the one making introductions."

"Listen to me very carefully, you cretin, if you…"

Caroline held out her hand, "Give me the phone, Enzo."

"You know this charming creature? And you've never introduced me? And here I thought we were pals."

Rebekah made a disgusted noise, "I see your taste in company has not improved in the slightest, Caroline."

Caroline waited until Enzo passed her the phone, standing up and walking to the other side of the room, and bringing it to her ear, the puppy hot on her heels, "Rebekah. I'd say it's been too long, but really it hasn't been nearly long enough."

"Trust me, Caroline. I completely agree. But, since Nik's not exactly great at making friends, we had very few options, when he got himself into this mess."

Caroline's heart began to thud, as the uneasiness she'd started to feel, upon hearing Rebekah's voice grew. "What mess?" she demanded, "he's not…" she trailed off, taking a deep breath. He obviously couldn't be dead, since Rebekah sounded more put out than devastated, and Caroline herself was still among the living. And, as Klaus had once delighted in telling her, he was the most powerful creature on earth. How bad could things really be?

"Did Josh not explain things to you? Honestly, good help is so hard to find these days."

"Josh is the semi-cute vamp with dark hair? Yeah, he didn't really get a chance to say much. Enzo's a wee bit paranoid, so your minion got his neck snapped for lurking around my building."

"Ugh," Rebekah grumbled, "and I told him to be discrete, too. Well, I'll sum things up for you. Nik pissed off some witches. Not an unusual occurrence, mind. But one in particular managed to weave a tricky little spell, leaving him vulnerable, and then things got a tad heated and she ended up dead. Kol's fault, really. We've not had a lot of luck in reversing it, and the peasants do get uppity when they think the throne is weak. So we had to get Nik out of the city."

"Wait, Klaus is here? Where? And what's the spell?"

Rebekah sighed, deep and long suffering, "Oh, Caroline do use your brain."

Caroline glanced up at the ceiling, unwilling to admit that she had no idea what Rebekah was talking about. Her attention was drawn down, caught by the little paws scratching at the denim that covered her legs. The puppy was gazing up at her, eyes big and blue and strangely… knowing.

And now that she thought about it, that particular shade of blue, was _really_ familiar.

Caroline bit her lip, fighting the urge to laugh, because the thought was completely nuts. It was batshit insane, to even consider that Klaus was currently in her living room, as an adorable ball of puppy shaped fluff, standing no more than twelve inches tall.

But then again, was it really all that much weirder than the whole prison dimension thing? If a coven of witches could make a copy of the entire freaking world, and everything in it, was it so unfathomable that one witch could turn the original hybrid into a puppy?

Not really, in Caroline's opinion.

She looked over at Enzo, who was watching her curiously. Caroline hesitated for a moment, because what she was about to do could very well make her seem like the biggest idiot on the planet. Enzo might be the least judgemental friend she had, but he'd mercilessly mock her, for trying to carry on a conversation with a dog, if it turned out that she had, in fact, lost her mind.

"Hold on a second, Rebekah," Caroline murmured into the phone, tucking it between her ear and shoulder, and bending to scoop the puppy up. It didn't try to escape, like it had with Enzo, and she carried it over to the table, setting it down on top, and pulling up a chair.

Because this was definitely a conversation one needed to sit down for.

The puppy sat, and its tail thumped against the table top. Enzo ambled over, and the puppy's eyes tracked his movements warily, "What's going on, Caroline?"

"I know Damon told you about The Originals, right?"

"Your hybrid, his evil sister, etc?"

"Yeah," Caroline shook the phone, "you just met the evil sister, sort of. And I think…" God, was she really going to say this out loud?

"You think…" Enzo prompted, and they both ignored the sound of Rebekah's complaints about being ignored, and how anything Damon Salvatore had to say about her was utter nonsense.

"I think this is Klaus," Caroline said, with a nod at the animal on her table. It came out in a rush, the words barely separated. But Enzo heard her and the puppy reacted too, barking excitedly, body wriggling, feet sliding on the polished wood.

But Enzo let out an abrupt laugh, "The big bad hybrid is a puppy? I'm all aquiver," he reached out, to touch the puppy (Klaus? Should she start thinking of it as Klaus? That was going to take some getting used to) but once again, the puppy bared its teeth, snapping and nearly catching Enzo's fingers.

Caroline slapped Enzo's hand away, "Hey! Careful. If I'm _not_ totally looney toons here than those sharp little teeth are your one way ticket to a painful death." Turning to the puppy, she pointed a finger at it sternly, "And you. No biting Enzo. Or any of my friends. Or anyone in general. I mean it."

The puppy huffed, and sat down on its haunches, petulant as can be, and Caroline was certain it had totally understood her, and she felt a little more confident in her wild theory.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline grabbed the phone again, "Rebekah, please tell me that this is a joke. That you've gotten super bored, and decided on a new way to torment me. Tell me that you didn't actually send me Klaus the werewolf puppy."

"Fraid not, darling. You've got to give the witch credit for style, hmm? Kol's headed off to search out some contacts in South America. Elijah and I have our hands full here. The list of people Nik trusted to mind him, and not attempt to kill him, was pitifully short, and you were right at the top."

Klaus glanced away, seemingly finding his paws fascinating.

"I…" Caroline had no idea what to say to that.

Luckily, Rebekah wasn't really the fuzzy emotions type, and got straight to the threatening, "Now, Nik may trust you, at least as much as he's capable. But I do not. You will protect him with your life, Caroline. You, and your little friend, will not tell a soul about his predicament. I will be most displeased, should something happen to Nik. And my displeasure will mean the slow, agonizing death of you and everyone you love. Do we have an understanding?"

Caroline swallowed heavily, and glanced at Enzo, who was looking impressed, "I think your forgetting the part where if Klaus dies, I die, Rebekah. But I hear you, loud and clear."

"Excellent," Rebekah drawled, sounding satisfied. "Now, Josh has the keys to one of Nik's vehicles, and a credit card. The phone you're holding has the location of a few witches programmed in. They're related to the pesky little wretch that cursed my brother. I need you to track them down."

"Whoa. Dog sitting is one thing, but now you expect me to hunt down and interrogate witches?"

"Oh please, Caroline. Don't pretend you don't enjoy Nik's usual form. Something kept him occupied, for hours and hours, last time we were in Mystic Falls. I'm quite sure it wasn't the scenery."

Caroline was just about to utter a protest but was stopped by Klaus, still sitting patiently on the table, shooting her literal puppy eyes, and damn it that just wasn't fair. "Ugh, fine. I'll help. But you better believe I am abusing that credit card," Caroline warned, mostly to cover how easily she'd caved.

Klaus barked once, and Caroline didn't know if that was a 'go ahead' or a 'don't you dare.' She would bet on the former, given Klaus' penchant for lavish gifts.

"Enjoy yourself, by all means," Rebekah said condescendingly, "but focus on the task. I'll touch base with you tomorrow."

Rebekah hung up, without waiting for a reply. "Awesome," Caroline muttered, "great talk." She regarded the puppy, Klaus, warily for a few moments, before she slumped back into her seat with a groan. "What even is my life?"

Enzo patted her on the shoulder, and sat down, "Never dull, at least." He addressed Klaus, sounding remarkably normal, but then Enzo was pretty great at dealing with curveballs, "I'm Enzo. Heard a lot about you, mate. Sorry I tried to check under the hood. No hard feelings, alright?"

Caroline snorted at that, a tiny, hysterical giggle coming out. She slapped a hand over her mouth, "Sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized, when both Enzo and Klaus gave her funny looks. But the urge to laugh only grew stronger at the affronted expression painted on Klaus' puppy face. Caroline gave in, letting her head fall onto the table, as her whole body shook in amusement. Klaus laid down on the table, resting his head on his paws, managing to project an air of annoyed patience as he waited for her to calm down.

She did, eventually, wiping her eyes, and clearing her throat. "Okay. So to recap: Klaus is a puppy, and I have a mission, that I must accomplish, under threats of death and dismemberment."

"Sounds about right, Gorgeous."

Caroline nodded once, resolutely, "Grab me a notebook, Enzo. I'm going to need to make a list."


	12. Block Beating Drabbles Part Two: Smut

**Notes: **I'm still having trouble with the multi chapters! Here's a few more drabbles. Warning: ALL contain smut, so if you're not into that you should skip this chapter! Edits done pretty quickly, so I apologize for any mistakes. Enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**give it to me anyway you can**

**(Prompt from mikaelsonsass: Klaus meets Caroline at her cheer competition and he fucks her on the mats when everyone leaves. Title from "Hey Mickey" by Tony Basil. Smut.)**

"You should have texted me to meet you earlier, love. I suspect I would've enjoyed the show."

Caroline rolls her eyes, when the voice comes from behind her. Almost twenty years, with nothing between them but postcards and semi-annual phone calls, and he chose to open with snarky quips? Should she really have expected anything else?

She whirls, a hand on her hip, just in time to see his eyes dart up from the vicinity of her ass. Not that she blames him. Cheerleading uniforms have only gotten skimpier, in the years since her first go around in high school.

So she feels fully justified in the long slow perusal she gives him. He hasn't changed much. Dark jeans, long sleeved t-shirt, necklaces. He's perfected the 'I don't care about clothes' look. And she'd buy it, if not for how well the things he chose always fit him.

Klaus says nothing, lets her look her fill, until she meets his eyes, "Which is not to say I don't appreciate that little ensemble. Spandex is a marvelous invention."

Caroline crosses her arms, and cocks her head, giving him her very best, 'Seriously?' expression. She's not actually annoyed, the obvious lust in his gaze is welcome, because she'd invited him here for a very specific reason. He'd texted her two days ago, saying he had business in her city, and did she perhaps wish to join him for a drink? She'd only hesitated for a few moments before replying positively.

And her dreams had taken an interesting turn, that night. She only hoped Klaus was game to fulfill a very old fantasy. She's already ditched her spankies in anticipation.

Klaus merely grins, not the least bit fooled by her feigned offense, dimples flashing in a way that she's always found endearing, even when she thought him the worst kind of monster, Sorry, love," he apologizes, though he doesn't sound the least bit contrite, "I don't spend much time around high school girls anymore.

Caroline snorted at that, not bothering to point out that she was technically in college (again), "Unless you're eating them, I presume? And should I feel special, to have been an exception?"

"You were a great many exceptions, Caroline."

She sucks in a breath, shocked at the abrupt switch to sincerity, but his expression lightens, before she can think of a reply, "This," he gestured around them, to the scuffed floor and blue mats she'd been piling, "is not what I expected of you. Reliving your glory days?"

"Hardly. I just meant to get a more useful degree. Saw the girls practicing in the quad my first day. This squad was just so pathetic, I couldn't resist. I like to keep busy. Plus I snagged a scholarship. I'm still learning the ropes on the money management for your eternal life thing."

Klaus nods, accepting that, his eyes shifting to the small trophy that rests next to her bag, "I see you've whipped them into shape."

Caroline casts her own look back, far more disdainful at the paltry piece of plastic and wood, "Third place isn't exactly a stunning achievement. I hoping I get some decent freshmen next year. God, if only compulsion could give people actual talent."

"Mmm. Sadly that's beyond the scope of the ability. You could compel them to be more dedicated, perhaps? Practice harder, that sort of thing."

"Already tried," Caroline admits, "some people just don't have any rhythm. Besides if they practice long hours, I have to practice long hours."

"And you've better things to do, I presume? Is there a boyfriend lurking about?"

He doesn't even try for subtlety, and Caroline appreciates that. She'd lied to herself a lot, about Klaus, back in Mystic Falls. She's lived too much, found her peace with shades of grey, to do it anymore. "Would it matter?" she shoots back, arching a brow.

"Not in the least," Klaus replies.

Caroline lets a slow smirk cross her face, before she says, "Good." And then she's moving, utilizing her vampire speed and strength, grabbing him and twisting, flinging him back onto the mats behind her. He lets her, propping himself up on his elbows when she straddles his waist. His eyes widen, a predatory smirk sliding across his face, at seeing the pale blue lace between her thighs, "Correct me if I'm wrong sweetheart, but I do believe you're missing part of your uniform."

She pulls her hair from its ponytail, shakes it loose, flinging the elastic and ribbon behind her, "Speaking of my glory days, something interesting once happened, at a competition kind of like this one."

"Did it?" Klaus sits up, not touching her yet, but his nose grazes her neck.

"Mmm, you remember Elena? The whole humanity switch debacle when she became besties with your sister?"

When Klaus replies, his lips brush her skin, "Vaguely."

"Well she was chock full of advice. Some of it I'm taking now."

He pulls back, eyes curious, but Caroline leans in, brushing her lips against his, sliding a hand up his neck, to tip his head back and take the kiss deeper. His hands are on her, at the first stroke of her tongue against his, sliding up her back, left bare by the cropped top. She shivers when his fingertips glide down her stomach, tracing the v-cut of her skirt's waistband. He does it again, makes a pleased little hum into her mouth, when she moves closer, grinding against him.

"Far be it for me to credit the doppelganger with good ideas," Klaus begins.

"She'll never know," Caroline cuts him off, grasping the bottom of her top and jerking it, along with her sportsbra. It's not exactly graceful, the thing fits like a very thick second skin, but Klaus doesn't seem to mind, if the way she finds herself on her back, is anything to go by. Her arms are thrown over her head, the fabric still tangled around her forearms.

And then his lips have replaced his fingers, tracing her hipbones and the soft skin between them, his eyes dark and watching her hungrily, "And what was this advice, for my own edification?"

Klaus ducks lower, uses his thumbs to slide her skirt up, until it's bunched around her waist. He gets to his knees, and takes his shirt of, before lifting her leg and bending it at the knee. He rests a hand on her kneecap, sliding it down her thigh, watching her inquisitively. He toys with the edge of her underwear, before his hand retreats. "I'm waiting, love."

Caroline wants his hands back on her, so the words come out in a rush, "She said that I should turn it off too. So I wouldn't have to feel guilty. For the dirty thoughts I had about you."

Klaus looks smugly pleased about that, of course. But all he says is, "Ah."

"That's it? 'Ah?' No glee at hearing that I was actually attracted to you, way back then?"

Klaus chuckles, his head dipping suddenly, hands pulling her hips off the mat, to lick at her through the lace she's still wearing. Her back arches, breath leaving her in a gasp, but he's gone, far too quickly, easing her back down. Caroline groans in frustration, before she can stop herself.

"You're attraction was hardly a secret, Caroline. The way you looked at me, love. The way you smelled. The way you tensed when your skin brushed mine. You never fooled me."

She moves to untangle her arms, and sit up, but Klaus' voice, low and commanding stills her, "Leave them. I like you like this, Caroline. You look so lovely, your skin just beginning to flush pink. Now, tell me more about these dirty thoughts."

She swallows harshly, hesitates, and Klaus slides his hand up her leg again, close to where she wants him to touch her, but not close enough, "Shall I guess?" he murmurs. "Was it the uniform? My hands, tugging at your hair, while you kneel on these mats? Or perhaps shoving up the tiny skirt to take you against the wall? The school? Did you want to be bent over a desk? To come on my fingers underneath the bleachers? Is it the fact that I didn't lock the door? That anyone could walk in, and watch us?"

He presses his thumb to her, works her clit in slow circles, until she'd panting, the muscles in her thighs taut, "Which is it, Caroline? Or is it something else?"

"All of it," she hisses finally, "I imagined all of it. And more."

Klaus rips her underwear off, presses her thighs wide, and licks. Her fists clench in the fabric that still traps her hands. He holds her hips down, as he works her up, her body heats, and sweat gathers, leaving her skin slipping against the vinyl. His soft tongue is perfect, the occasional hard suction he applies maddening. He's making little noises of enjoyment, seemingly content to taste her for hours.

But Caroline doesn't have hours. She needs to come, the tension he's built driving her insane. She fights his grip, trying to move against his mouth, but he's stronger than she is. She looks down, pleas on the tip of her tongue, to find him watching her intently, his fangs out and eyes hybrid yellow. When she moans out, "Bite me," it hadn't really been intentional, but as soon as it's out, she wants it more than anything. He pauses, and she shakes her head, hair sticking to the back of her neck, "No, no. Don't stop. Bite me. Please."

"Caroline…" Klaus voice is low, raspy. And she sees him shudder, his eyes closing as he presses a kiss to her thigh.

He slides his fingers inside of her, as his fangs slide in, his thumb pressing down on her clit, and Caroline comes, his name a shout as her head digs into the mat. Her climax continues in waves as he drinks, her toes curling, as her entire body is wracked with pleasure.

He pulls away, and she relaxes back into the mat, drowsy and sated. There's a faint tingle in her thigh, and she knows it will soon build to excruciating pain, but she's not worried. Klaus has reared up, his hands unsteady as he pulls off his belt, shoving his jeans down. He tugs her hips into his lap, the head of his cock teasing her entrance, slowly sliding inside of her. She moans at the stretch, eyes drifting open to watch him. He's looking down, lips parted, watching himself enter her. Caroline moans again, wiggling her hips to encourage him to move faster.

And then his arm is under her back, scooping her up, and she's dropping down, taking him all in, and he's mumbling, "Fuck, Caroline," against her shoulder. She throws her head back, rubbing her nipples against him, their hips pressed together, looping her still bound arms around his neck. He tips his head back, and to the side, in invitation, and Caroline doesn't hesitate to take it. Her fangs dig in, her body grinding down, his hands clutching her ass and helping her move.

Klaus tastes just like she remembers, better than any other blood she's ever tried, and she takes greedy gulps of him, listening to his heart pound as his hands roam her skin, and his body moves against hers.

She's sure she takes more than she needs, but he lets her, and when she pulls back to look at him his features are tight with strain. A hand drifts down to her thigh, checking to make sure the bite's healed, drifting back up to toy with her clit when he's satisfied. Caroline begins to rock against him, planting her feet for leverage. It's only gentle for a moment, before their eyes catch and he's rearing up to meet her, tipping her back to bite and suck at her nipples, one arm keeping her anchored to him.

Her second climax builds, even quicker than the first, and soon she's spasming around his cock, knees gripping his hips tightly. He follows her, groaning her name around her breast, as he shakes until he's spent.

Klaus lowers her down, reaching up to tear her cheer top off, throwing the scraps away. Caroline stretches her arms out, and he presses a kiss between her breasts, "Well," Klaus asks, "can we chalk that up to a fantasy fulfilled?"

Caroline smiles up at him, runs a hand along his shoulder and grips his curls, pulling his mouth down to hers. She nips at his unfairly lush bottom lip, soothes the sting with the point of her tongue. He's still inside her, his cock hardening already. Caroline keeps her tone light, "One of them. I did always assume the mats would make certain positions easier on the knees…"

He flips her over before she can blink, and she widens her thighs, as he runs his palms down the outside of them, kneeling behind her, his hand stroking himself, "Oh, love. You shouldn't have said that."

Caroline tosses him a smirk, sinking to her elbows, and arching her back, relishing the groan he lets out, "Let's try the hair thing this time, alright?"

* * *

**i'm burning for you**

**(Prompt from an Anon: hot firefighter AU where things get more than a little heated. Title from "Burnin' For You" by Blue Oyster Cult. Smut.)**

Caroline can't decide if she wishes the striped boy shorts and threadbare tank she'd worn to bed were slightly nicer – because there are some seriously attractive firemen milling about her front lawn – or if she'd rather have been forced out of her house in one of the shapeless flannel things her grandma sends her every Christmas. Because at least than she'd be warm.

Wrapping her arms around herself, fighting shivers, she shoots another glare at her neighbor when he looks like he might head in her direction. He'd offered to keep her warm, in the sleaziest way imaginable, and if he tried it again she was going to knee him in the balls.

Probably not smart, when there were police in the vicinity. But it would maybe be worth it. Because her current predicament, standing on a curb, half naked, at 4 AM on a Wednesday in March, was all his fault.

She hadn't been able to overhear the conversation he'd had with the fireman who'd questioned him, but the fireman had looked pissed, and her neighbor had turned red as they'd spoken, his arms flailing wildly.

The idiot probably fell asleep with a candle burning or something equally boneheaded.

Caroline studies the duplex she lives in carefully. It looks okay, not that she's an expert. But the firetrucks had arrived really quickly, so she's crossing her fingers that she'll be able to sleep in her own bed tonight, or at the very least will be able to grab her phone and laptop and some clothes.

She's making contingency plans, lists in her head, when she's startled, by a weight draping around her shoulders. Caroline clutches the scratchy blanket instinctively, pulling it tighter around herself. When she turns around one of the firefighters is there, holding up his hands and rocking back a step, "Sorry, didn't meant to scare you."

The accent's a surprise and Caroline waves his apology away, "No, you're fine. Being woken up by a screeching fire alarm just makes me jumpy, I guess. Thanks. For the blanket."

"You're welcome. Now, I have good news and bad news for you. Which would you like first?"

"Bad news," Caroline says decisively. She's always been a rip the Band-Aid clean off kind of girl

"Very well. You're going to need to stay somewhere else, for a bit. A building inspection will need to be done, and there's some water damage to the walls of your kitchen. Several of your appliances will need to be replaced. Do you have insurance?"

Caroline nods immediately, because duh. She'd done a lot of research, before signing her first lease, back when she'd finished college. She's relieved that the bad news isn't worse, all things considered. Caroline wasn't much for cooking, so she could live with damage to her kitchen.

"Okay. Good news, please."

"The structure's been deemed stable enough for you to go in and gather some belongings. And, between you and me, I don't think the damage is too bad. Some new drywall, a bit or airing out, and it'll be good as new. Your neighbors not quite so lucky, but then he's…"

The fireman seems to check himself, closing his mouth with a snap, and offering her an apologetic smile. Caroline laughs softly, "You can say it. I won't tell. A douchebag? Or something more British?"

His smile widens, and he really is attractive. His face is smudged with soot, and it makes his eyes seem especially blue and she's pretty sure she's going to be having dirty dreams about his mouth tonight.

"You don't get along, then?"

Caroline glances over, sure her face clearly expresses just how much she is not a fan of the guy who shares several of her walls, "He plays his porn really loud. There's a lot of giggling, which creeps me out. And he's the worst parker I've ever seen."

The hot fireman opens his mouth to respond, but someone shouts, "Mikaelson! Quit flirting and get the girl in the house before she freezes."

He shoots a vicious glare at someone behind her, and Caroline bites her lip to hold in a smile. When he looks back at her his expression has softened, and he gestures for her to go ahead, "After you, sweetheart."

"It's Caroline," she tells him, waiting for him to fall into step with her, "can I get a first name, Mikaelson?"

He smirks at her, opening her front door, "It's Klaus."

"Klaus," she repeats, testing it out. "Can I check out the kitchen? Or are you in a hurry to get back?"

Klaus glances back out the door, where firemen are still packing up gear, and people who live on her street, who'd come out to gawk, are slowly dispersing, "A quick peek should be fine," he tells her. He walks a few paces behind her, as she heads to the back of the house, where the kitchen is located. He'd been right about the wall, it's covered in a huge water stain, and there are puddles of dirty water on the floor that she itches to clean up.

But she knows it's pointless, so she forces herself to take a deep breath, and leave the kitchen. But, when she turns on her heel, she bumps into Klaus. Her hands fly up, to catch herself, landing on his chest, and the blanket pools at her feet. He'd taken off his jacket, before coming over to her, and the navy t-shirt he wears is so ridiculously soft that Caroline can't help but rub her fingertips over it.

And she'd be lying if she claimed not to be taking the time to appreciate the firmness of his body under her hands at the same time.

When she glances up at him he looks amused, maybe a little flattered, and Caroline snatches her hands back, hastily stepping away. And, since this night really is not going her way, she promptly trips over the blanket she'd dropped. She's saved by Klaus' quick reflexes, his hands banding around her upper arms and hauling her back into him. His fingers loosen, but he doesn't let her go immediately, and she's sure his eyes drop to her mouth.

Well. Maybe there was some lemonade to be made here. She did buy one of those firemen calendars every year. For charity. And because she liked the suspenders. Why not see if Klaus really had been flirting with her? And if he'd be interested in doing more.

Pressed against Klaus, her breasts flattened against his chest, Caroline forces a laugh, just in case she's reading this wrong. It comes out a little breathy and strained, and she takes the opportunity to touch him again, but he doesn't seem to object, "Well, if I was going to fall and crack my head open, at least there are still paramedics outside."

He releases her slowly, his palms gliding down the length of her arms, and Caroline really kind of wants to lean back into him. She'll chalk it up to the stress of the situation, and the late hour, if he rejects her. Really, is it any wonder that she would kind of need a hug?

"I'd rather avoid such a thing, if you don't mind."

"Not a fan of paperwork?" she jokes.

"That, and it's a very pretty head." She glances away, thrilled that she hadn't been reading anything wrong. He bends to pick up the blanket, but Caroline doesn't take it. He raises an eyebrow, darting a pointed look down, "Take it love, you're obviously cold."

Caroline fights the urge to cover herself, because she'd just decided that getting Klaus the firefighter over her, under her, inside her, is just the thing that will make this night not a total loss. And once Caroline sets her mind to something, she rarely fails to make it happen. "So that guy outside was right?" she asks, "You are flirting with me?"

"Unprofessional, I know," he confesses, "But you're beautiful, and I couldn't resist."

Caroline can't help but roll her eyes, even as she blushes a little at the compliment, "I don't care about your firefighter ethics, or whatever. I'm fine, my stuff seems to be fine, and maybe I can talk the landlord into painting the kitchen a less hideous yellow."

"An optimist, are you?" he tucks a curl behind her ear, his fingertip brushing the shell gently, and Caroline fights a shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature.

"Little bit. It that a problem?" raising a challenging brow, she brushes past him, and mounts the stairs.

"Not at all," he assures her. Klaus is a few steps behind her and he clears his throat before he asks, "So if I were to ask for your number, perhaps ask you out to dinner…"

She lets the offer linger, until they get to the top, where she spins to face him, smirking down, "I'd say yes. But first, what time does your shift end?"

His eyes widen, but he looks intrigued, "8 AM. Why?"

Caroline shrugs, attempts to look innocent, "I'm going to find myself a hotel room, and then I'm going to take a personal day from work. Pretty sure I deserve it."

"Undoubtedly, love."

"But I'm afraid sleep will be tough. I'm so tense. I thought you might want to help me with that."

Klaus climbs the last few steps, but Caroline stays where she is. His hands reach out to rest on her hips, then slip under her tank, his skin hot on hers. He's close enough that all it would take is a tiny tilt of her head to kiss him.

He licks his lower lip, hesitating only a moment, before he murmurs, "I'd be delighted to assist."

Caroline grins, leans into him, presses her lips just beneath his ear when she whispers teasingly, "Do you think you could wear the uniform?" before she leaves his arms, swaying her hips more than strictly necessary.

His low laugh follows her into her bedroom.

* * *

He couldn't smuggle out the uniform, as it turned out. Not without alerting his supervisor, who was well aware of Klaus' single status, to the rule breaking that was about to occur.

Multiple times, if Caroline had anything to say about it. And there was always time later, to make that fantasy a reality, if dinner went well. Caroline had a strong suspicion that it would. They had insane chemistry, and had talked easily enough, as she'd gathered enough stuff to last a few days.

Klaus seemed to be on the same page, if the increasingly suggestive texts they'd been exchanging were anything to go by.

She'd just upped the stakes a little, sending him a picture. A side profile, of her in the shower, lather strategically placed.

She puts the phone down and rinses, waiting anxiously for his reply.

It doesn't take long.

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:12 AM]**

_That's cruel, love. I'm still on the clock._

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:14 AM]**

_Well your shift seems to have gotten boring. Just trying to help you make it through._

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:15 AM]**

_Such a humanitarian._

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:15 AM]**

_What's your room number?_

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:16 AM]**

_305\. But I told the front desk that you're my boyfriend, so they'll have a key card for you._

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:16 AM]**

_Because I'm not planning on putting clothes back on._

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:17 AM]**

_Cruel. Once again. You realize I'm surrounded by about a dozen men, who will never let this go, should they notice my cock is hard right now?_

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:18 AM]**

_Poor you. Does it help that I'm planning on making it up to you?_

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:20 AM]**

_It might. Tell me more._

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:21 AM]**

_I would. But I need to blow dry my hair. Moisturize. Girly things._

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:22 AM]**

_Send pictures._

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:23 AM]**

_Maybe. How long will it take you to get here?_

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:25 AM]**

_Twenty minutes? More if there's traffic._

**Caroline:**

**[Wednesday 7:27 AM]**

_I hope not. If it's longer than twenty minutes I'm starting without you._

**Klaus:**

**[Wednesday 7:27 AM]**

_I almost hope you do._

She sends him one last picture, at 7:58 AM. She sprawls on the bed, kicks the blankets down so they're bunched at the foot, before bending her knees and parting her legs, getting most of her body below the waist in the frame. She uses a filter, rationalizing that it's classier to send an almost crotch shot in black and white. But she likes the way it turns out. Her skin gleams, slick from the lotion she'd just applied and her burgundy painted nails are a dark contrast to her pale skin, where her hand rests, just covering the juncture of her thighs from his view.

Her phone chirps with a reply, almost immediately.

_I'll be there soon._

* * *

She's set her phone alarm, for 8:20, and jumps when it goes off. Caroline strains her ears, but the hallway seems quiet. Checkout's not until 11, and the ease with which they'd booked her room probably meant the hotel wasn't exactly packed.

She's not sure if 'starting without him' had been a promise, or a threat, and she wavers over actually doing it.

But if she's honest, lying alone in the room, naked and waiting for Klaus, with nothing to do but spin day dreams, has already left her skin sensitive and core damp. And he'd seemed to like the idea, so what the hell? She piles the pillows behind her, and gets comfortable, before she licks her fingers, and begins rolling her nipple, her other hand drifting down to lightly stroke her stomach and thighs.

Caroline closes her eyes, and thinks about Klaus' hands, how they'd felt on her back, remembering the length of his fingers, imagining how they'll feel inside of her. She wonders if he'll talk, thinks about filthy words falling from his lips as his voice gets rougher with arousal.

She's so lost in the fantasies playing behind her eyelids, and the pleasure she's bringing herself, that she doesn't even notice the door open, Klaus curses, dropping the bag that he'd been carrying, and her eyes fly open to meet his, just as the door clicks shut behind him.

Caroline begins to pull her hands away, but he stops her, his, "Don't," nearly a growl. "Keep going," he urges her, shedding his jacket.

She nods, watching him undress, her eyes heavy lidded, letting her hand dip between her thighs finally. She strokes over her entrance a few times, under his avid gaze, before she sinks her index finger inside, lips parting around a whimper, as she lets her palm press against her clit. Klaus crawls up the bed, kicking off his pants, settling on his knees. He wraps his hands around her calves, widening her legs, "You're incredible, Caroline," he tells her, voice thick as he watches her, "So gorgeous. I need to touch you."

"Yes," she gasps, and that's all the encouragement he needs, before he's sinking a finger into her, right alongside hers. It's so much better that way, and she grinds down against his hand.

He starts a slow pace, thrusting and withdrawing, his index finger occasionally curling around hers, moving them together. She's propped up enough that she can look down, and the sight of their fingers, slick with her arousal, pushing into her body, gets her hotter, and she lets out a moan, her hips shifting restlessly. "Could you come like this, Caroline?" he asks, almost conversationally, and she finds herself shaking her head. Because it's good, great even, but not quite enough.

He makes a considering noise, "You need to tell me these things. Just until I know your body, what you like. And I plan to learn it all, love. I plan to spend hours, listening to you moan my name. What do you need?"

Caroline reaches down, wraps her fingers around two of his, and meets his eyes when she says, "More."

He gets it immediately, and the extra fullness of his thicker, rougher digits is perfect, and when he hooks his fingers, and rubs, his name spills out, almost a whine. She uses her slippery finger to circle her clit, her thighs shaking as they work together to get her off.

But she's always been a little greedy in bed, and she wants more, "Loose the boxers," she demands, pressing her lips together to stop from whimpering at the loss of him as he pulls away to comply. He stands, shucking them quickly. "You should probably get a condom," she tells him, and he darts to his bag to rifle through a side pocket before returning and moving to crawl back over her. He presses a kiss, to the top of her thigh, but she slides her hand into his hair, and urges him higher. He stops at her breasts, and she lets him for a bit, his lips and tongue working the tight peaks feeling too good to pass up. But she gets impatient, and tugs him upwards once more. He protests, her nipple falling from his mouth. "Later," she mumbles against his lips, before sealing hers over his. They kiss, rough and probably a little sloppy, but they're both too far gone to care. Caroline swipes a hand through her folds, before grasping his cock, right as she sucks on his tongue. He lets out a hoarse groan, his head dropping against her collarbone, as she strokes him, using her wetness to ease the way, before positioning him at her entrance.

With a tilt of her hips, and a thrust from him, he's inside of her. Caroline's back arches, head digging into the pillows behind her, as her knees crawl up his sides.

Klaus pants into her neck for a moment, before he pulls back, lifting onto his elbows, his hands cupping her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers, "I'm glad I responded to that call today, Caroline."

It's unexpected, and sweet, and she can't help but kiss him again. But her body needs more, and she clenches around him, tearing a moan from deep in his chest, "Me too, Klaus. But I need you to move."

He nods, pulling his cock from her, and they find a rhythm, their bodies working together in a push-pull that belies the fact that they were strangers yesterday. Neither is capable of articulate thought. He groans about how good she feels, she pleads for more. Before long the only thing Caroline can focus on is the tension pulling her body taut, and she pulls him closer, gasps, "I'm so close." Klaus moves faster in response, and she slides her hand between them, rubs her clit until the waves of pleasure break over her, and she's pressing her face into his neck to muffle her shout.

He gets a little rougher, an arm snaking under her hips, to pull her into his thrusts. But Caroline doesn't mind, his movements prolonging the ripples, until he comes with a shudder, collapsing onto her. She runs her hands over his back, and he makes a pleased hum, before rolling off of her and fumbling for tissues on the bedside table.

When he rolls back to her, having dealt with the condom, he lets his eyes rake her body, a gleam of hunger already there. "I don't have to work until Monday, love. What are the chances you can take more than one personal day?"

Caroline pretends to give it some thought, mentally high fiving herself for the fact that she's never taken one before, and so her boss won't even blink at the request to take two more, "I think that can be arranged. For my emotional trauma, or whatever," They share a smile, naughty and full of promise. Caroline pushes him onto his back, throwing a leg over his waist. His hands come up to run along her thighs, but she scoots down, laying a kiss on his chest. Than another, lower, "Besides," she says, pitching her voice low and sultry, as she darts her tongue out to taste his skin, "I think I said something about atoning for my teasing, didn't I?"

* * *

**feel the chemicals burn**

**(A combo of two prompts – from klarolineforevermine: ****kc+ "We woke up in a dark room handcuffed to each other alrighty let's find a way out and try NOT to think about the handcuff thing." AU and from cupcakemolotov: ****KC + Post slaughter porn. Title from 'Bloodstream' by Ed Sheeran. Smut.)**

Caroline awoke slowly, disoriented, with a splitting headache, feeling clammy and achy.

All clues that something was very, very wrong.

She tries to think back, but things are alarmingly fuzzy. She remembers saying goodnight to Bonnie and Matt, and walking back to her car, only slightly tipsy. The pain in her head can't be because she'd over imbibed. Hangovers happened occasionally, but they required a fair amount of effort, and Caroline had only had a half a bottle of wine, max. She's a vampire, capable of existing on blood and bourbon, according to Damon's example. A couple of glasses of Malbec with a steak was nothing.

Caroline forces her eyes open, examining her surroundings and fighting the urge to begin cursing. She smells old blood and wet dog, dirt and smoke. She's surrounded by stone, and the room's lit sparsely, light coming from a dozen or so candles, spaced along the walls.

Both of those things reeked of supernatural involvement. It was a long shot, but Caroline had kind of been hoping this was more benign, some random crazy managing to nab her with sheer, dumb luck. Had it been a regular ol' human psycho, who thought Caroline was easy prey, just a defenseless, pretty, girl, this whole thing could have been wrapped up easily. She was hungry, so she could have just eaten the gross perv and been on her way. Sustenance and a public service, wrapped in a pretty bow.

Closing her eyes again, pushing past the pounding in her head, Caroline focuses her senses. And notes, with a start, that she's not alone, that there's another heartbeat in the room. She sits up, her fangs dropping as she turns to face the possible threat. But she's met with no movement, defensive or otherwise, so Caroline relaxes slightly. Until she notes that there's a manacle, about two inches wide, wrapped around her wrist. She pulls at it, attempts to crush it, but doesn't even manage a dent.

She pokes at it, curious and uneasy, keeping a cautious eye on the still form of her fellow prisoner. The body, from what she can see, is most likely male. It's too dark to make out any defining features, without getting closer. She searches the cuff for a seam, but it's smooth the whole way around. Definitely magic. There's a thick loop, and a length of chain attached, and her fingers follow the links, nearly a foot, she thinks, noting the odd warmth of the metal, until she meets skin.

She snatches her hand back, because she has no idea if the unconscious person is friend or foe, human or vampire, or even if this is some nutty witch re-enacting _Saw_ (in which case, sucks to be the other guy, because Caroline's finally finished her master's and she's got Europe on her mind). It's probably best if he keeps sleeping until she figures out a plan. She's never quite learned to play well with others, in that sense.

But, more information couldn't hurt. Maybe she knew this guy? God, she hoped it wasn't Matt. He'd been living free of supernatural shenanigans, and seemed happier for it.

Caroline got to her knees, careful not to jostle his arm, and creeps forward, squinting until she can make out his face.

And she promptly lets out a gasp, half shocked, half relieved, because she knows that face. She'd invited him to her graduation, but he hadn't replied, and she hadn't seen him at the ceremony. But, when facing unknown enemies, The Original Hybrid was kind of best case scenario for a teammate.

Not that she wasn't suspicious that they're current predicament was his fault. She'd stayed far away from vampires, witches (save Bonnie), and werewolves since leaving Mystic Falls. Caroline has continuously ignored Damon's calls, once it became clear that he considered her his lackey. He kept trying to send her off in search of witches to break Elena's curse, but Caroline had a life to lead. Last she'd heard Stefan was captaining that particular wild goose chase, while Damon stayed behind in Mystic Falls, guarding Elena's frozen form.

Caroline refused to feel guilty about not helping, gave regular pep talks to Bonnie, about how she shouldn't either. Elena had accepted her fate, would live a full life, eventually. Caroline wasn't willing to jeopardize Bonnie's just because the list of people who could stand Damon was pitifully short.

So yeah, the abduction was most likely one of Klaus' bajillion enemies attempting to get vengeance for some grievous crime Klaus had committed in the past. He always seemed to come out on top, in those situations, so Caroline was fully prepared to yell at him later, once they were safe.

He made a small, pained, noise, and his legs shifted. Caroline shuffled closer, heart thudding noisily in anticipation. They hadn't seen each other, since he'd left her in the woods behind the Salvatore Boarding House, though they'd spoken a few times. And she's definitely thought of what she'd say to him, rehearsed it even, but this scenario hadn't been something she'd considered.

She totally should have because magical handcuffs and enemies to destroy was exactly the type of weirdness Caroline's life often devolved into, no matter how complacent she'd grown these last few years.

Klaus does not wake gently, something she really should have thought about. She lets out a squeak of alarm, finding herself flat on her back, trapped underneath him, his forearm a heavy weight against her throat. His face is set in hard lines, veins out and double fangs bared, and Caroline's breathing accelerates, despite the fact that she doesn't fear him. His eyes blink in confusion. Once he recognizes her, the yellow bleeds away, and he sits up. Her arm is dragged with him, and it's then that he notices they're bound.

Caroline coughs once, and rubs her throat, and a fleeting look of guilt crosses Klaus' face, but he quickly looks away, his hands going to the cuffs. His face creases in confusion, and he seems to exert more effort, but the bindings will not budge for him either, even though she thinks he's exerting all of his considerable strength.

Ugh. Magic.

"Where are we?" he asks, tone clipped and business like. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Nice to see you too, Klaus," Caroline returns pointedly, "And I have no idea. I woke up approximately three minutes before you did, feeling like my skull had been crushed repeatedly."

He leans forward abruptly, and sniffing her neck, then down her arm, and Caroline squirms uncomfortably, "Alright, this is new. And weird."

Klaus pulls back, jaw set, "Wolves," he spits out. "The scent is all over you."

That was unsettling, but Caroline pushes it out of her mind, for now. She sits up, and Klaus moves back enough to allow it. He stands, offering her a hand, and pulling her up when she places her palm in his.

"Right," Klaus says, eyes scanning the room. She wonders if he can see more than she's able to, "we've got wolves and witches, and I'm certain there were several vampires, who attacked me last night."

"Great," Caroline groans, "does it make you feel special, all this interspecies cooperation, for the express purpose of taking you out?"

Klaus smirks, "It does, a bit. I do like to be feared. And, when this plan inevitably fails, it's always nice to have crossed some enemies off of my 'To Be Killed' list."

Caroline squints at him, wondering if she should even bother to ask, "Do you have an actual list? Is it laminated? Or do you use quill and parchment, for old time's sake?"

"It's more of a mental list, love," Klaus tells her, ignoring the jab about his ancientness, "Constantly changing as it is."

Caroline rolls her eyes, and turns to walk away, but she walks into a wall that doesn't exist, after taking a few steps, and feels as though she's being burned alive for a moment. She lets out a screech and a curse, stumbling back into Klaus, who wraps an arm around her waist to steady her. She sags against him, panting, as the pain slowly dissipates, "What the fuck was that?" she bites out, when she's able to stand again.

He's watching her sympathetically, though she can see the anger behind it. He takes a few steps away, in the opposite direction, an arm outstretched. Caroline follows cautiously, and she sees him stiffen abruptly, and shake out his hand, though he's far more stoic about the pain than she had been, "A boundary spell, I believe. They want me contained. Smart, strategically speaking," he muses, "though it does make me want to stretch out their deaths."

Caroline silently agrees, her nerves still stinging, she glances down at her shaking hands, and lets out another curse, "They took my ring," and her shoes, she realizes. Her free hand reaches up, noting that her earrings are gone too. She peers at Klaus, notes that he's in much the same state. His necklaces are absent, and she's rarely seen him without some sort of jacket.

"We'll get you another one," he promises, "The Bennett witch will surely make you one, if yours cannot be retrieved."

Caroline knows he's right, but cannot help but feel a little sad, at the idea that it's gone forever. It's been a part of her for so long.

"They were likely trying to prevent us from having any makeshift weapons at hand. It's what I would've done. My belt's missing, as is the button on my jeans."

Caroline's eyes drift downward, along the lines of his body, almost without her permission, but she shakes herself. Now's so not the time to dwell on anything like that.

But then a lightbulb goes off in her head, and she can't help the little crow of triumph she makes, plunging her hand into her bra. Klaus' eyes follow the movement, his eyebrows creeping up, but she quickly unearths the coins she'd stored in her bra earlier (because Matt always eats all of her gum, so she'd ducked into a store to grab some more on the way to dinner, having left her purse in the car). A smug grin crosses his face, as he sees the two quarters, a nickel and three pennies lying in her palm.

"Those will do nicely," Klaus says, taking them from her. "Let's do a little experiment." Klaus tosses one of the pennies, and they hear it hit the ground, well beyond the area they're spelled to stay in.

"So there's just some magic line of pain and death keeping _us_ in?" Caroline asks.

"Yes. I suspect they took some blood, keyed the circle to us, specifically. I'm nearly certain it will fail, once the witch who made it dies."

"Nearly certain," Caroline mutters, not really liking the sound of that. At least she's supposed to drive Bonnie and Matt to the airport. If Caroline doesn't show there'll be a Bennett witch hot on her trail, so she supposes she can live with Klaus' suppositions. "And these?" Caroline hefts her wrists, shakes the chain that connects them.

"Might be trickier. Spells anchored to objects often persevere."

"That's just great," Caroline grouses, "so not how I anticipated experimenting with bondage."

Klaus face lights with interest, a wicked smile curving his lips, "Please elaborate, sweetheart. I'll take mental notes."

She shoots him a glare, but he is unrepentant, "Is this really the time for your weird attempts at flirting? Shouldn't we be plotting?" She's anxious, and she's sure he can feel it, as observant as he's always been. She's a little rusty, at life or death situations, after all.

Klaus' expression turns serious, "We'll get out of here, Caroline. I give you my word. But the plan is simple. I kill the witches, and then we fight our way out. The wolves should be no threat to you, this far away from the full moon. No vampire will come close enough to harm you."

It's practically a vow, and Caroline believes him. She takes a deep breath, trying to force her anxiety away. She knows it won't help her, in a fight. She needs to be calm, and focused.

Klaus' head cocks to the side, and his posture changes infinitesimally, and he pivots so they're side by side. "Someone's coming?" she asks, knowing his hearing is better than hers.

He nods, and Caroline tenses, feels her hands claw instinctively, though she doesn't allow her features to change. It will help, if they underestimate her, if the see a seventeen year old blonde, in a floral dress, rather than the monster that hides beneath.

Klaus presses his arm against hers briefly, and she's reassured by how steady he is, but he steps forward when they hear the creak of a door opening.

The room is lit, all at once, a wave of candles igniting, when the woman who enters first waves her arm. Caroline forces herself not to react, but the room is larger than she'd assumed, and is quickly filled. The witch, followed by an older woman, and then an assortment of people appearing to be in their twenties. Caroline keeps a count, tries to guess at species. There's subtle differences, in the way vampires and werewolves move, and she keeps an eye out for daylight rings. They surround her and Klaus, and the circle that Caroline can now see drawn on the floor.

Klaus chuckles suddenly, the sound so cold that Caroline can't help but glance at him. The older woman approaches. She's in her fifties, with dark skin and grey hair. She'd probably been beautiful once, but her face is twisted in hate, "Ah, a human," Klaus pronounces, "at the helm of all this? I'm almost impressed, Louise."

"You stole my daughter. Killed my family," she spits.

"You're daughter came to me willingly, in all sorts of ways," Klaus drawls. The woman rears back at the suggestion. "An ambitious girl, and I was quite fond of her. I didn't kill her. Nor did I kill your husband or son."

"Lies," the woman hisses, and nods to the witch.

Caroline's driven to her knees, lets out a cry as the witch attempts to make her brain explode. It's mercifully brief, and she gets to her feet shakily, shoving away Klaus' attempt to help her. She refuses to seem weak, and meets the woman's eyes head on.

"It would be best if you cease your attempts to cause Caroline pain," Klaus his voice low and promising a screaming death.

But Louise continues to stare at Caroline with interest, maybe a tinge of respect. "And that girl?" she asks, tone laced with contempt, "You seem to care for her, as much as a thing like you is capable of. What happens to her? She's another abomination, so perhaps the world will be better off, once you no longer have any use for her."

She makes another gesture, and Caroline grits her teeth and braces herself, put the pain never comes. The witch has crumpled to the floor, a stream of blood coming from between her eyes, and Klaus is rolling a coin over his knuckles, a grin on his face, as he addresses the room at large, "Seems your search of the lady was not quite so thorough. Probably for the best, as I would've made you eat your hands." His hand is a blur then, and five more bodies drop, coins embedded deep into skulls.

There's a long moment of stillness, as no one moves. And then Louise makes an anguished cry, and lunges at Caroline, a stake in her hand. Caroline doesn't even think about it, simply snaps the woman's wrist, before ripping out her throat. There's a disgusting gurgle, as her hands desperately try to stem the bleeding and she sinks to the floor.

Caroline has no time watch her die, as the room erupts, and several people rush them at once. Twelve people, she tells herself, as her fangs drop, after Klaus' kills. Four wolves and eight vampires, if Caroline's count is correct. The next few minutes are a blur. She throws a punch at the first wolf to reach her, feels the bones in his face break, knees him in the gut and he goes down. She stomps on his neck, easily snapping it.

Klaus is all around her, moving almost too fast for her to make out what he's doing, somehow managing to fight with one arm, leaving her to use the bound hand. She sees glimpses, his face set in concentration, the lithe way he moves, the force he's capable of wielding. He's successfully killing everything that gets close enough for him to grab, seemingly not hindered by the length of chain that connects them. Caroline's quickly slick with blood, and has to mind her feet, nimbly stepping over the bodies that have fallen. She uses her teeth, biting through a carotid, wiping her face before she whirls to face her next attacker, sees rage and teeth before she wrenches a blonde woman's neck.

There's a hand fisted in her hair, yanking her backwards, but it's gone before she can even cry out, and Klaus drops a heart at her feet.

She gives him a quick, grateful look, and he dispatches the last two of their captors, biting one, before breaking his neck, and removing the final vampire's head.

They're both quiet, for a long moment, the only sound is Caroline's harsh breaths, as she surveys the carnage. She waits, but feels no guilt, or remorse, like she maybe once would have. She's always been willing to kill to save her friends, has come to realize that she's has no less value. These people took her, would have hurt her, and killed her, all to get some revenge on Klaus, for actions that she had no knowledge or part in. She's fine with wearing their blood on her hands. Being collateral damage got old, and Caroline had been sick of it years ago.

"Alright, love?" Klaus asks, tugging gently at the chain that connects them.

"Yeah," Caroline manages, turning to look at him. It's possibly a bad idea, for several reasons.

She loves being a vampire, has accepted that about herself. But she's still mostly lived by human rules, fights her darker urges, sates certain needs with blood bags and food. She dates human boys, is mindful of her strength when they're in bed together. She's careful not to drink in their vicinity, or if she'll be seeing them within an hour or so. She'd never wanted to risk the bloodlust turn in to regular lust, as it is sometimes does, with someone delicate. But right now, adrenaline's pumping through her body, and Klaus is there, and he's definitely not a human boy. She can't break him, even if she tried. He's covered in blood, and watching her, hungry and covetous. It's a look that she dreams about, a look that wakes her up twisted in her sheets, with an ache between her thighs.

She thinks about fighting it, about closing her eyes and turning away. He won't make the first move, despite how tense and ready he is, the urges he must also feel. Klaus is a thousand years old, his control is unparalleled, and he's always waited for her cues.

But why should she fight it, fight herself? She graduated yesterday, completed the last of her human goals. Her parent's would be proud of her, but they're gone and she's got to start living for herself now. Maybe this is the first step.

So Caroline stops battling her instincts, steps into Klaus' body, and licks a trail of blood off his neck. His head tips back, and she hears him gasp. Caroline smirks against his skin, before she takes another taste, insanely pleased to have shocked him.

He recovers quickly, not that she would have expected anything less, and when he says, "Caroline," it's a warning, nearly a growl.

She assumes it means that she has a couple seconds to change her mind, but she's not going to. She wants him, wants his touch, wants all of his skin pressed to all of hers. She jumps up, wraps her legs around his waist, her free arm looping around his neck. Caroline tightens her thighs to grind herself against his hardening cock, murmurs, "Yes, Klaus?" teasingly, before licking up another trail of blood, this one leading to the corner of his mouth. She nips at his lower lip, sucks it into her mouth, moans at the taste of him, mixed with fresh blood.

There's a rush of air, and her back's pushed into a stone wall. He lifts her up higher, one hand on her ass, tears into her dress with his teeth, rips the center of her bra away shortly after. Then he's got his mouth on her nipple, his tongue laving the peak harshly. Caroline clutches at his hair, pushing his head down and arching into his mouth. Her other hand jerks uselessly, wanting to grab at him, wanting him closer, but she can't move it very far, attached as it is to the one he's supporting her with.

He lets her nipple fall from his mouth, drags his tongue up the slope of her breast, making an appreciative rumble, "I do like the taste of blood on your skin, love."

And then he's angling her head, sealing his mouth over hers, stroking her tongue, deep and fast and rough. She clings to him, trying to rock her hips, but he's got her legs spread over his waist, and no matter how hard she pushes she can get only the barest touch of friction where she wants it. It's driving her insane, and she barely notices the scrape of stone as she writhes, too focused on the way he's kneading her flesh. He keeps kissing her, pulling back to smile at her needy whimpers, before he kisses her again. She tears her mouth away, leaning her head against the wall, but his mouth trails down her throat, and when he scrapes his teeth over her collarbone she moans his name.

Maybe that was what he was waiting for, because he sets her down, dropping to his knees, holding her steady with a hand on her hip, He licks at a blood stain on just above her knee, and it makes her ache. He hums that noise, low in his throat again, rasps out, "Delicious," before he tears her dress the rest of the way down the middle.

The scraps of it float around her body, and he lifts her leg over his shoulder, he pauses runs his knuckle over the crotch of her panties. They're soaked in her arousal, clinging to her skin. He does it again, pressing near her clit, and Caroline bites he lip to keep from begging.

But he's watching her face, and makes a sound of disapproval, "Oh, no, sweetheart. None of that. I want to hear you. He curls a finger underneath the fabric, tugs gently, "Do you want these gone? Do you want my mouth, Caroline? My tongue where you're dripping? All you have to do is ask."

She nods quickly, the words sticking in her throat. Klaus shakes his head, leans forward, to kiss her stomach, licking along the line of her panties. She lets out a whimper, moves to shove them off herself, but he grabs her wrist, brings it to his face. He sucks her index finger into his mouth, swirls his tongue around it, and Caroline feels her knees start to shake. Is this what she's been missing, with those human boys? She's burning, in the best possible way, skin so sensitive that the lightest brush makes her gasp. Her core clenches at the feral look on Klaus' face, at his teeth scraping the pad of her finger.

She swallows, licks her dry lips, and he watches her intently, "Rip them," she manages to force out, "then taste me. Please, Klaus. I need…"

Whatever else is going to say is lost, coming out an unintelligible moan as Klaus' eyes glitter, in triumph and anticipation. Her underwear's gone, and he's teasing her clit, with the tip of his tongue. He's released her hand, and she reaches down to grab his shirt, tears it from his body. He groans, the vibration of it against her adding another ripple of sensation, and her leg on his shoulder pulls him in desperately.

She can't take much more, not as tightly wound as she is, and he seems to sense it, pushing two fingers inside of her, as he flicks her clit rapidly. He pulls back and she wants to sob, but he slides his hand, the one bound to hers, up her torso, to fondle a breast. Her hand follows suit, tugging at a tight peak, as she rolls her hips against his fingers. He sucks her clit into his mouth, pinching down on the nipple in his grasp, and all of Caroline's muscles lock as she's shoved over the edge into an orgasm that has her vision going fuzzy around the edges.

She rides it out, for long minutes, Klaus' fingers helping her along. When she blinks back to awareness, she's crumpled, sprawled boneless and sated across Klaus' lap. Klaus is rigid, underneath her and she can feel his cock, hard and ready behind the denim that still covers him. Caroline sits up, shakes her hair back from her face, and runs her fingers down the tight cords of his neck. Klaus' lips are parted, his eyes ringed in yellow. Caroline runs her nails down his back, and he shudders, a soft grunt falling from him, his hips jerking into her. It sends a new rush of interest through her and she shifts forward to rub her center across the bulge of his cock, her head falling back as she sighs with pleasure at the sparks of need it sends shooting up her spine. She pulls away, peeling off what remains of her clothes, before she lies down on the ground, parting her thighs, and pulling on the chain that connects them, in invitation.

That seems to be all Klaus needs, because his pants are off and he's on his knees, looming over her quickly.

He positions his cock at her entrance, before grasping her hips, and entering her in one smooth thrust that tears a gasp from her mouth at how amazing it feels. She reaches for him, pulls him down, and twines her legs around his hips.

He pins her trapped hand with his, next to her head, and the other wraps around her back. There's not a lot of finesse to what they're doing, she'd call it fucking, before she called it anything else, but Caroline loves it, all the same. Their bodies are slick, with blood and sweat. His pace is fast, harsh and snapping. Caroline's muscles clench at each retreat, trying to keep his body close, the fullness of him inside. She pants and moans, asks for more. He's quieter, his inhales ragged against her skin. Her nails dig into his back, the closer she gets to another orgasm, and the smell of fresh blood, of his blood, has her fangs popping out again.

The idea of biting him, of having him bite her, ramps her need up higher, and she grabs his hair, baring her neck and nudging his head there. Klaus takes her invitation, and his bite hurts, for a second, but the pain pushes her pleasure higher, and the moan he makes as he drinks from her makes her body throb. Klaus seems to know, must be able to feel her straining for release, so he angles just so, brushing her clit on the next few thrusts.

And then Caroline's screaming, her head thrown back as she shakes through a climax, even more intense than the last. Klaus's "Bite me," is hoarse and desperate, panted into her ear, and she does so mindlessly, sinking her fangs into his neck just as he pulses inside of her, his hips locked to hers.

She keeps going as he comes down, savoring his blood on her tongue, slowing when he rolls them. She lets go, licking the wound until it closes. Caroline stretches, feeling pleasantly spent, before she lays her head on his chest. He runs his fingers through her hair, gentle around the snags, and she closes her eyes and nuzzles his skin in contentment. She lets out a pleased sigh before speaking, "So, not really how I thought I'd celebrate my graduation, but I'm not really mad about it. I have no idea what I'm supposed to wear out of here, though."

Klaus' chest shakes, and he laughs softly, "I'm sure we can scrounge something up. In a few minutes."

"In a few minutes," Caroline agrees. But she looks up, to find him watching her, eyes soft and warm, and finds herself curious about something, "why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

He smiles, dimples coming out, "I thought I'd surprise you. I didn't know if you'd told your friends about our occasional chats. And I didn't particularly want to sit in awkward silence while the Bennett witch and Rebekah's quarterback fling fantasized about murdering me."

She can't really blame him, for thinking he's her dirty little secret, "I did tell them. They weren't happy, but I've come to realize that them being happy isn't more important than me being happy."

He looks pleased, maybe even a little proud, "I'm glad, Caroline." His hands drift lower on her back, his cock stirring beneath her, and nope, Caroline has to nip that in the bud.

"So what did you get me?" Caroline asks, sitting up a little higher. Klaus eyes drift down, to where her boobs are pressed against his chest but she snaps her fingers, "Hey, focus. Next time we have sex we will not be surrounded by dead bodies, okay?"

She expects some snarky comment about her use of 'next time' but Klaus surprises her, nodding, "You're right, love. I've already broken my promise to myself. I intended to ravage you slowly, soft touches of tongue and teeth until you're begging for my cock. A bed suits my purposes nicely."

She fights not to shiver at the lazy promise, at the images of him keeping it that flood her mind, but her body's heating and dampening, all the same. He smirks up at her, smug, and Caroline clears her throat, "Focus, Klaus. Present? I wouldn't say no to a plane ticket, assuming your evil empire can spare you, for a bit."

His eyes widen, and Caroline grins. Shocking Mr. My Backup Plans Have Backup Plans twice in under an hour? Felt pretty damn good.

"I don't know if I'm ready for last love, just yet," she continues, "You might have to wait a century or two. But maybe a summer fling? You want to convince me that you're the guy for the job?"

He rolls her beneath him again, sliding his lips over hers. She expects frantic, but he's slow and careful, coaxing her mouth into playing until she's breathless when he pulls back, "I don't know if a summer will be long enough," Klaus tells her, "I plan to be very convincing." His hand darts down, his thumb brushing her nipple.

"The timeline's flexible," Caroline murmurs, closing her eyes and shoving more of her breast into his hand. "When do we leave? I'm thinking Spain, by the way."

He continues touching her, and Caroline seriously reconsiders another round, right now, when Klaus' hands fall away. "Give me a week. I've got some loose ends to wrap up."

She cracks her eyes open to look at him, "Ah, yes. Tracking down anyone associated with this setup, I'm guessing?"

Klaus studies her face, expression guarded, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," Caroline says simply, and Klaus nods.

"Anyone who would use you to harm me must die, Caroline," he tells her. It's a statement, one she knows he won't budge on. "Can you handle that?"

"I can accept it. I'm not a big fan of being harmed."

"I think I'll send Rebekah after the wolves. They're a resilient bunch, and she does like to get creative with the torture."

Caroline rolls her eyes, shifting him off, "I haven't changed that much, Klaus. I've discovered a self-preserving streak. I don't want to listen to you wax poetic about torture techniques."

Klaus rolls to his feet, and she joins him, he cups her face, his blue eyes serious, "You're young still, Caroline. Who knows where your interests will lie, centuries from now? I'd be happy to help you discover anything your mind alights on."

He's sincere, and Caroline has one of those moments, where she'd struck anew by the idea of forever, at decades and centuries spanning before her. At Klaus' assurance that he'll still want to know her, with all those years under her belt. No one's ever found her that interesting, and it's always amazed her that he does. She shakes her wonder off, shoots him a smile, tries for casualness, "Stranger things have happened, I guess. Let's go loot some clothes and find a phone. Also get these stupid cuffs off."

Klaus smirks, let's her move things to lighter territory, dropping his tone suggestively, "Gladly. And then you can tell me more about your thoughts on bondage, hmm?"


	13. klarolineauweek1 AU: AH Celebs

**Notes**: So I've been a little quiet lately, mostly because I've been working on things for **klarolineauweek**, currently happening on Tumblr! Today is Day One and the theme is AU: All Human (Celebrities). Here are the two drabbles I wrote. Check out the tag on tumblr or head over to everythingisklaroline dot tumblr dot com to see all the fics and art!

**Biomechanical Force**

**(Prompt from an Anon: ****"i was trying to read in the park and your stray football fucking knocked me unconscious" klaroline au. Rated T.)**

"Oh my god!" Caroline exclaims, her hands flying up to cover her face. This is possibly the most mortifying thing to ever happen to her. Maybe not _ever_, because sometimes she still cringes, looking back at her teenage self. But it'll definitely go down in history as the most embarrassing moment she'd experienced since she'd reached legal drinking age.

She is going to murder Enzo.

Biting her lip, she slowly uncovers her face, prepared to apologize profusely for Enzo's inability to throw a football properly. She expects the guy who'd gotten hit (a super-hot hottie, and yeah Caroline might have been paying a little more attention to him than to correcting Enzo's technique but the fact that she was wasting a sunny Sunday on this, just because of a stupid contest Damon had roped Enzo into was _ridiculous_. She deserved a little eye candy for her trouble) to be irate, rubbing his head and glaring daggers, but he's not.

He's slumped slightly to the side, the book he'd been reading having fallen to the ground.

Oh shit.

The contrite words she'd been crafting flee her brain, and she sprints over to the bench. She hesitates, but then tugs the guys sunglasses off his face (carefully, because they were clearly designer, and she'd hate to have to explain that she broke them, in addition to being a party to causing whatever head injury he might have sustained).

And then her heart sinks further, because she _knows_ his face. Not because they'd ever met, but because it graces tabloids and big screens regularly. And okay, fine, he might have featured in an explicit dream or two, after she saw that one with the swords, where he was half naked and sweaty most of the time. Entirely naked and sweaty for a very steamy scene that Caroline definitely hadn't watched repeatedly, on the Blu Ray copy that she owned.

Enzo's come up behind her, though he seems to be in no hurry. He bends to pick up the football, tossing it between his hands, "Whoops. Seems I don't quite know my own strength. Or perhaps this ball is just defective? American football is so odd."

"Enzo," Caroline whispers furiously, "do you _know_ who this is?"

"The bloke you've been ogling since we got here?"

Caroline smacks him, with the back of her hand, because was this really the time? Could he not see that she had her panicked face on? "No! He's…"

But Enzo cuts her off with a scoff, "Don't deny it, Caroline. I have perfect vision and you were doing an awful lot of that hair tossing thing you do when you flirt."

Caroline groans, resisting the urge to hit him again. Harder, possibly in the head. But two head injuries probably weren't better than one, "Not, 'No, I wasn't ogling him,'" Caroline bites out, holding up a hand when Enzo looks like he's about to butt in, "Shut up, Enzo. I meant no, as in he's not just a guy I'd been ogling. He's Klaus Mikaelson."

Enzo eyebrows creep up, recognizing the name, and her leans forward, peering at Klaus' (could she call him that? Probably not. But what was she supposed to call him?) unconscious face. "Huh. So he is. Thought he'd be bigger." He brought a hand up, and tapped Klaus' face, none to gently.

"Enzo!" Caroline hissed, outraged, shoving his arm down, even as Klaus' eyelashes fluttered and he made a soft noise.

"What? He's waking up. That's good, right? And he's English. He'll likely agree with me about the weird balls."

Caroline shushed Enzo, because waking up to a strange man talking about balls would certainly freak her out, so Caroline thought she should spare Klaus that. "Go get my water bottle," she hissed, taking a seat on the bench.

"An errand boy, am I?" Enzo muttered, but jogged away.

Klaus made another noise, louder this time, and his eyes popped open for an instant, before they squeezed shut again, and he brought a hand up to rub his head.

"Um, hi," Caroline started, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "I'm Caroline. And you're… well, you know who you are. And I know who you are. Should I pretend that I don't? Sorry. I've never met anyone famous before, and I've also never injured anyone famous before so I'm not entirely sure what the protocol is. Not that I injured you. That was all Enzo. I could throw a better spiral than that when I was like nine."

He made another sound, low in his throat, and this time it sounded more amused than pained. Caroline took that as a good sign. He sat up, turned his head to look at her, and having those eyes trained on her was way different than seeing them on her television. Caroline hoped she wasn't blushing.

A thought occurred to Caroline, and she sucked in a deep breath, "Wait. You _do_know who you are, right? Oh, god. Please tell me you don't have amnesia?"

He laughed softly, and when he spoke it was low and much more polite than Caroline thought she deserved, "No, rest assured I do not have amnesia. My name is Klaus. It's lovely to meet you, Caroline."

Well, that was a relief. "Okay, good. I mean, I thought it was a little Lifetime movie, but it would kind of be just my luck, you know? And I am so, so, sorry. I really should have been paying more attention, but honestly I never thought Enzo would make it anywhere near you. Please don't sue us. Your face looks fine, and that's what's important, right?"

"Just fine?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Perfect," Caroline tells him, "not that I think actors are stupid, but…"

He grabs the hand that she'd been gesturing wildly with, in her agitation, pressing the back of it against his knee, running his fingers over his wrist, "Breathe, love. I was teasing. I'm fine. No plans to sue, I promise. I have brothers so I've likely taken harder hits, with no lasting effects."

Caroline nods, and takes his advice, taking a deep breath in, and letting it out slowly, "Okay. Awesome. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he tells her, his thumb still rubbing circles on the delicate skin over her pulse. And if his goal was to get her to calm down? It sort of wasn't working. Because it kind of felt like he was flirting with her. But he couldn't be, right? Probably just a side effect of his head injury.

They both looked up, hearing Enzo's footsteps approaching. Caroline sends her friend a warning glare, because she'd gotten Klaus to agree to no lawsuits, and she really needed Enzo on his best behavior, so Klaus' mind did not change.

Enzo thrusts the Caroline's water bottle at her, before turning slightly to Klaus, "Apologies for your head."

Not exactly effusive, Caroline will admit, but it could have been worse. She offers the bottle to Klaus, "It's mine. No cooties, I promise."

He takes it without hesitating, taking a long sip, watching Enzo curiously, "Aren't you going to introduce me to your boyfriend, love?"

Enzo makes a face at that, and Caroline can feel herself doing the same, "Oh, he's not my boyfriend. Just my friend. He sat next to me at the most boring Introductory Sociology class in the history of the world. We bonded out of necessity. Been buds ever since."

Enzo grins, and Caroline braces herself, because there's a little hint of 'up to no good' there that she recognizes, "Right. Like comrades in arms, really. Besides, mate. If I was in love with her, do you really think I'd not have objected to the way you were watching her arse, every time she bent over?"

Caroline freezes, feels her face begin to heat, and notes Klaus stiffening next to her, "Enzo," she suggests tightly, "why don't you go wait in the car? I'll be right there."

With a mocking salute, Enzo lopes off, leaving them in a slightly awkward silence. "I'm sorry, about him," Caroline apologizes, "things just kind of come out of his mouth. It's sort of part of his charm, but maybe I'm just used to it."

He sets the water aside, and takes her hand again, "That's quite all right. And he wasn't entirely incorrect."

Caroline turns to look at him once more, opens her mouth, before she snaps it shut again. Because it wasn't every day that an attractive man so boldly admitted something like that. At least not to her.

"I'd like to think it wasn't as base, as your friend made it out to be, but I _was_looking at you."

"Why?" Caroline blurts out.

Klaus shrugs, "I heard you laugh. And I looked over. And then I had a hard time looking away. Perhaps I should thank your friend. And his terrible aim. Because I'd not have gotten the opportunity to speak to you, otherwise."

Caroline's just about to make a joke, something about how he must have a concussion, but he speaks before she can, "Would you have dinner with me, tonight?"

She's silent, incredulous, for a long moment. "Seriously?" she asks, unable to keep the disbelief from coloring her tone.

"Completely," he replies, immediately. "You're beautiful, and interesting. Anywhere you want to go. I'll take you."

The 'yes' tumbles out before Caroline can even think about it. And he smiles, bright and genuine, and she doesn't think to try to back out. They exchange numbers, arranging to meet at a Greek place that Caroline likes, later that evening. She walks away, feeling sort of dazed, but excited, wondering if she has time to go shopping. She wants to dress to impress, and she's not sure anything she has fits the bill.

When she climbs into the driver's seat, Enzo takes one look at her, at the giddy grin she's fighting, and snorts, "Mr. Hollywood made a move, then?"

She rolls her eyes, sliding her keys into the ignition, "Be nice. He could have taken your life savings all because you have shitty aim."

"Au contraire, Gorgeous. My aim was flawless. A little gratitude out of you for my exceptional wingmanship would be nice."

* * *

**In The Right Place**

**(Prompt from an Anon: model! caroline + model! klaus or photographer! klaus? Title from 'Eyes on Fire' by Blue Foundation. Smut.)**

Bent over the sink, in the tiny bathroom, Caroline feels close to hyperventilating and that was _not_ acceptable. She's been working as a photographer for three years now, and she's mostly silenced her critics. And there had been many. People who said Caroline had no talent, that she was booking jobs solely because of the people she'd met as a model. And then there were the people who whispered, quiet and malicious, behind her back, that she was only working because she'd fucked the right people.

But they were wrong. Caroline was good, and she knew it.

Scouted at sixteen, at a mall in Richmond, Virginia, she'd always been pragmatic about her modelling career. Youth was a commodity, and most girls were considered washed up by twenty-two. But Caroline liked the industry, liked the energy and the creativity, and so she had peppered anyone who'd humor her with questions, right from the beginning. She'd considered makeup, learned all sorts of tips and tricks (which had definitely come in handy, over the years) but it was photography, that she'd fallen in love with.

She'd pursued it, full force, like she did everything she wanted. Crammed in classes whenever possible, harassed her favorite photographers and crew members, soaking in the knowledge they'd shared, because she knew school could only take her so far. And yes, when the time came, she worked every contact she could, to get hired to take the pictures, rather than pose for them.

And Caroline wasn't ashamed of that. Anyone with half a brain knew that the fashion industry was about who you knew, as much as it was about what you could do. People who bitched about that were just bitter that they didn't have an in, and Caroline refused to let them drag her down.

One of the many lessons she'd learned as Miss Mystic Falls, battling catty beauty queens, that had proven to be surprisingly applicable in her adult life.

And another lesson, one she thought she'd had down, that she was kind of forgetting right now? Never let them see you sweat.

Weakness was not allowed, and if she walked onto set, looking like she was anything less than in control, _everyone_ would know, would speculate about why. Caroline liked the crew, but she had no illusions that they wouldn't whip out their phones, and text their closest twenty friends, about her attack of the nerves, if she appeared frazzled.

And it would haunt her, for months. It wouldn't undo her carefully crafted image, not totally. But there'd be side-eyes, and murmurs, that Caroline had no desire to weather.

Which was why she was in the bathroom right now, fighting to get it together.

She cursed the stupid model who'd gotten the chicken pox, necessitating a last minute switch. What kind of adult had never had the chicken pox? And why was Klaus Mikaelson even available at the last minute? Shouldn't Mr. Top Model's schedule have been too packed?

Ugh, clearly the universe was conspiring against her.

The only bright side? At least the shoot wasn't underwear.

* * *

Caroline's all smiles when she comes out, bantering with the wardrobe assistant who's using a fork and sandpaper, to scuff up an expensive pair of boots, fielding questions from her assistant about the lights. She sees Klaus, set up in the makeup chair in the corner, his brother and manager, Elijah, sitting next to him, eyes glued to his phone

She knows she has to talk to him, knows that it'll look weird if she doesn't. So she squares her shoulders, and heads over to greet him, hoping he'll be discrete, and maybe not mention that time they had sex in a bathroom at a party.

Although, maybe she's giving herself too much credit. Caroline's heard things about him. Things that make her believe that it's entirely possible she's just one of the many, that maybe he won't even remember.

And wouldn't that be a blow to her ego, considering how often her mind wanders back there?

He can't look at her, as she approaches, the makeup artist, has a death grip on his chin, applying eyeliner (not enough to be noticeable – the denim brand they were shooting for wasn't exactly avant guarde so guyliner was a no. Just enough to make his eyes pop a little). But Elijah stands, ever the gentleman, and offers her a hand to shake, "Caroline Forbes, it's nice to meet you. The shoot you did for Nylon last month was spectacular. Are you and Niklaus aquatinted?"

Caroline's not entirely sure how to respond to that. She's a little surprised, first of all, because Elijah doesn't exactly strike her as a Nylon kind of guy. And she's a little relieved, that he appears to have no knowledge of the fact that she does, in fact, know Klaus. So either Klaus _had_ forgotten her, or he's not the type to brag.

But the makeup artist takes a step back, to survey Klaus' face, and he takes the opportunity to turn to Caroline, ignoring the irritated clucking it causes, "We met years ago, when I was first starting out. You look fantastic, Caroline."

"Thank you, so do you," she replies automatically. He seems sincere, the glint in his eyes appreciative, as he takes her in. She's a little curvier, than she was back when she modeled, and sometimes people aren't so nice about it. But not having to be stick thin to fit into sample sizes, not having to live off of raw Kale and protein shakes (God, she'd missed cheeseburgers!) is a perk, in Caroline's opinion, and she likes the way her body looks, thank you very much.

And she's not lying, because he does look incredible. It's a sad fact of the world that male models have a longer shelf life, and Klaus, now in his late twenties, is more attractive than ever. He'd been a little baby-faced, four years ago, but he's lost that, wearing the stubble and the tattoos well.

It's purely aesthetic appreciation, Caroline tells herself. From a photographer's perspective. It would shoot well, that was the important thing, and Caroline forcefully pushed any more lust driven thoughts to the back of her mind.

"It's been, what? Four years? The after party after New York Fashion Week. You wore black. We danced, I think. Just before you retired."

Keeping her face neutral takes a fair amount of effort, because between the words, the suggestive lilt he'd used when he'd said 'danced' and the knowing way he's looking at her, Klaus has definitely not forgotten just how well they'd known one another.

At least her ego will make it through the day intact. Her nerves? That remains to be seen.

* * *

_Four Years Earlier..._

She's had a lot of champagne, and she feels amazing, high off of the number of shows she'd walked (not bad for an old lady, and she'd even closed a couple!). It was her last fashion week, not that anyone knew that yet, and Caroline was a firm believer in finishing strong. Plus it would drive interest, into the next stage of her life. And Caroline was determined that her new career would be every bit as successful as her last one.

And there wasn't much she couldn't do, once she put her mind to it.

Scanning the crowd, gathered in the very nice apartment of an obscenely rich socialite, Caroline was looking for a specific head of artfully messy dark blond curls.

They'd been ships in the night, all week, exchanging suggestive remarks and heated glances. Caroline was determined to take their flirting to the next level, and cap her week off right.

She was off to Paris tomorrow, a coveted internship with a photographer that most people would kill for. One night of fun, before weeks of grunt work. That was Caroline's plan.

She'd met Klaus Mikaelson two months ago, at shoot for a perfume ad. He's new to the game, pretty and charming, and she thinks he'll do well. She'd spent eight hours, in racy black lingerie, wrapped around him, while he'd looked her like he wanted to devour her. The camera click clicking in the background, and the dozen or so people watching, hadn't done much to cool the effect he'd had on her. It was only the boyfriend she'd had waiting back at home that had caused her to turn down his invitation back to his hotel.

But that boyfriend was old news, something she'd informed Klaus of when they'd first run into each other backstage at Dolce and Gabbana. His eyes had heated, and when he'd murmured, "I'm glad to hear it, love," he'd leaned closer than was strictly necessary, and she'd felt the brush of his lips on her neck.

She was looking forward to feeling them again. Hopefully in more interesting places.

She smiles when she spots him, his back to her, elbows against a bar in the corner. She walks towards him, presses against his back when she's close enough. She should probably be more careful, because someone could be sneaking a picture, right this second.

But Caroline doesn't care. Let them talk.

Klaus stiffens, when her hand slips around his front, and under the t-shirt he's wearing, but relaxes when she speaks, resting her chin on his shoulder for a moment, "Hey, stranger. Wanna dance?"

He turns to face her, leaning back to get a good look at her, his eyes widening as he takes in the very short hemline of her black dress. It takes him awhile to look back at her face, but Caroline doesn't mind. She waits patiently, sending him a tiny smirk, before she takes a step backward, crooking her finger in invitation. He follows, leaving his drink behind, his eyes a darker blue than usual, and Caroline knows that she has him. She spins, letting her wild curls fly, and sways her hips as she walks. She feels him, behind her, the warmth of him, the tantalizing scent, enveloping her. She stops in the middle of the room, where people are moving to the music, and this time it's him, pressing against her.

She melts into him, lifting a hand behind her, to tangle in his hair, just on the edge of rough as she rolls her hips. He seems to like it, if the breath he lets out, and the way he grasps her waist, is anything to go by.

Caroline gathers her hair over one shoulder, turns her head and presses a kiss, just under his jaw, "Do you remember that shoot where we met, Klaus?"

"Of course. I think about it often, all of that bare skin that I could only touch when the camera was on. Practically torture."

She lets out a hum, against his skin, takes another taste, relishing the way he clutches her more tightly, "You can touch me now. Anywhere you want." She punctuates the offer by grinding back against him, and she thinks she hears him groan softly, even as he drops a hand, toying with the hem of her dress. "But just for tonight."

"Not sure I like that, love."

She shakes her head, "Then walk away, Klaus. Cause that's all I can offer, right now."

He stills, tilting his head to look at her, and she lets him look at her, lets him read her resolve. This isn't the start of something, as much as she'd like it to be. But her whole life is about to change, and she's got to focus on that.

He nods, moving against her once again, "I suppose one night will have to be enough. For now."

Caroline ignores that last part, because there's no room in her head for future plans, and the now is pretty spectacular. She looks around, happy that no one seems to be paying them the least bit of attention. She puts her hand on his wrist, dragging it up, under her skirt, until his fingers graze her. She bites her lip and he mutters, "Fuck, Caroline," when he feels nothing but skin, where he'd probably been expecting silk or lace.

He touches her, just the lightest of brushes, and she tips her head back against his shoulder, widening her thighs slightly in invitation. He curses again, bites down on her bare shoulder, but then he's moving away, and Caroline wants to protest, but he grabs her hand, dragging her through the crowd.

He turns back, gaze dark and wild and filled with promises that Caroline hopes he's going to keep, but he doesn't speak, merely winds his fingers through hers, urging her to move faster. He goes up a staircase, and then down a hall, the noise of the party fading away. He seems to know where he's going, opening a door to a lavish bathroom and pulling her in. Then his hand is in her hair, angling her face, as his mouth seals over hers.

There's nothing gentle about it. It's all heat and want, aggressive and perfect. He moans when her lips part, and Caroline shoves him back against the door, her hands going for his belt.

He pulls back, batting her hands away, "Easy. Not so fast. I've plans for you."

And it's nice, to know that she's not the only one who's been thinking of this, but Caroline doesn't need to be seduced, and she tells him so, "We don't have time for romance, Klaus. Lock the door and fuck me."

It's possible he thinks about denying her, his expression contrary. But Caroline shakes her head, of course he's stubborn, and plows ahead, shimmying out of her dress, leaving her bare, save for her high heels and the necklace that dangles between her breasts.

Klaus lips part, as he eyes her, and he reaches behind him, fumbling for the lock on the door. Caroline takes a step back, when she hears it click, until she bumps into the counter. He's moving towards her, slowly. Too slowly, in Caroline's opinion, so she eases herself onto the marble, parts her thighs and holds his gaze, as she lets her hand wander down her stomach, her intentions clear.

It's bold, possibly bolder than she's ever been in her life, for all that she's always been upfront about liking sex. But there's something about the way Klaus looks at her, like she's the brightest thing in the room, that makes her confident.

And it's effective, because his strides lengthen, and he pulls his shirt over her head. He takes her hands again, curls them over the edge of the counter, and his voice is low when he speaks, "Everyone's too drunk or high or self-absorbed to care what we get up to, Caroline. I'm going to fuck you, I promise. But first, I want something else. Keep your hands there."

He drops to his knees, before she can protest, nipping at her inner thigh, like he senses what she's thinking. But when his mouth climbs higher, dropping kisses and taunting nips, she decides that she'll let him run the show, at least for a little while.

Because his mouth had featured heavily in her fantasies, and she wants to see if reality can even begin to measure up.

He hooks her knees over his shoulders and she rests back against the mirror. He holds her gaze as he licks her, for the first time. But when he finds her clit, traces tight little circles, before he sucks it into his mouth, her eyes flutter shut and she moans, tilting her hips to encourage him.

It's a blur after that. A fast climb to an incredible peak. She's sure she begs, and her hand finds its way back to his hair, when his fingers slip inside of her, crooking and rubbing until she's a fluttering mess.

Her eyes are still closed, when she feels him laugh softly against her stomach. She peels them open, asking, "What?" puzzled about what he could possibly find funny at a time like this.

"Nothing, love. I just like you like this. Languid and lovely and spent. I find myself wishing that I could have you in my bed. There's something to be said, for taking your time, hmm?"

He's smug, and Caroline can't have that, can she? So she uses her hand in his hair, to urge him up, going for his belt, once again. He seems to have no objections, this time, planting his hands on her thighs and leaning in to kiss her. Caroline gets his pants undone, sucking on his lower lip. "Please tell me you have a condom."

He nods, reaching back to dig out his wallet, fumbling when she scrapes her teeth along the line of his shoulder. Caroline admires the red mark, for a moment, fleetingly hopes it stays, as a reminder, for a couple of days. But she shakes that thought off, shoving his pants and boxers down, using her feet until they're out of her way, before she wraps her hand around the base of him. He's thick, and hard, and she clenches in anticipation as he tears open the foil packet, swirling her thumb around the wetness leaking from the tip. She releases him, to let him roll the condom on, catching his eyes and licking the taste of him off of her thumb. He shudders, eyes closing briefly, stepping into her, and smoothing his hands up her ribcage, "You don't make it easy on a man's control, Caroline."

Caroline arches her back, pressing her breasts into his palms as he toys with her nipples, "Take a hint. I don't want you in control, Klaus." She reaches down, pressing his cock where she wants it, sighing as she tilts her hips until he slips inside. She wraps her arms around him, nails digging in to his back as she pulls him into her, "Fast, hard, rough," she demands. "That's how I want you. That's the memory I want."

He lifts one of her legs, hitching it higher over his hip and they both moan at the new angle. His head drops to her shoulder and he braces a palm against the counter behind her, muttering, "Anything for you," as he pulls back, and drives back into her.

Caroline moans again, long and throaty, and he grins against her skin. And then there are no more words, though they're far from silent, gasps and moans and cries increasing in intensity and volume. Until his face is tight with strain, and his hand is shaking, when he brings it between them to toy with her clit, watching her face intently. Until he murmurs, "Come for me," and she does, his name on her lips and her thighs clamped around him, so tightly that she'll feel the strain for days.

* * *

It's so hard not to think back to that, when he still looks at her like she's the sun. He's doing his job, she reminds herself, seducing the camera so people will buy the jeans he's shilling. Men, with the hopes that they'll manage a fraction of his allure. Women with the hopes that their boyfriends will look at them like that.

They work for hours, and it goes well. He listens to her, anticipates what she wants. Doesn't act like he knows everything, like she's just some blonde bit of fluff, who thinks the camera's a toy. She's dealt with that, more than once, and never gracefully.

There's three set ups, in the plan. Slightly undone tie and suit jacket, on a leather couch, which they'd done first. White tee, against a brick wall, which they'd done second, in the bright afternoon sunlight. And she's just finishing up the third, where he's shirtless, jeans riding low on his hips, sprawled across downy white sheets, while she stands over him on a bed taking shots.

Totally impossible not to think about sex, in Caroline's opinion, given the situation, and the bedroom eyes he's giving her. She's far from a saint, and when he licks his lips she grits her teeth, reminding herself that she's a professional, damn it.

And as much as she wants to set her camera aside and straddle him, so she can lick his lips herself, she can't.

She pushes through, shifting to get a few more angles, before she calls for a break, and hops off the bed.

"Do you want me to stay on the bed?" he calls after her.

She doesn't look back, not trusting herself, "I'm not sure. Just give me a minute to check the shots. Someone get him some water," she directs loudly, and one of the interns scurries to comply.

He doesn't complain, and Caroline spends the next few minutes, scrolling through her laptop, discussing the pictures with the brand manager from the company, her assistant hovering nearby.

The rep seems pleased, with how things have gone, and leaves it up to Caroline to make the call. Caroline breathes a sigh of relief, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention, "Alright, that's a wrap! Great work everyone!"

A few cheers ring out, and Klaus sits up from the bed, taking the shirt he's offered, his eyes focused on her. But she's got things to do, so she offers him a small smile, before turning to her assistant to begin issuing instructions for clearing everyone out. She sees him head back to the makeup area, out of the corner of her eye, sees glimpses of him, as she supervises the crew and packs up her things. Caroline doesn't see him leave, and she tells herself that she isn't disappointed, when he doesn't say good bye.

Walking to her car, lugging her gear, she's considering her take out options. There's a piece of paper, tucked under her windshield wiper, and a little trickle of anticipation fizzes through her blood because somehow she knows that it's from him.

His writing is neat, and the note is to the point, his name and number at the end,

_Caroline,_

_I'm hoping you won't turn me down again. Meet me for a drink? _

She's digging her phone out, and punching in his contact info, and then sending a text, no part of her hesitant.

**Caroline [THURSDAY 7:12 PM]:**

_Make it dinner? I'm starving._

She fidgets, waiting for an answer, and thankfully the reply comes quickly. Had he been waiting? She hopes so. Because as fondly as she looks back on the moments they'd shared, she thinks they could be so much more, and can't wait to find out if he agrees.

**KLAUS [THURSDAY 7:13 PM]:**

_I'd love to. Name the place and I'll be there._


	14. klarolineauweek1 AU: The Past

**Notes: It's Day Two of klarolineauweek, and here's my contrubutions! Head over to everythingisklaroline dot tumblr dot com for more! The days recap post will be up shortly. Hope you enjoy!**

**An Afternoon's Discoveries**

**(Prompt from lynyrdwrites: "****impoverished lord and rich American heiress." Inspired by the historical romance **_**A Lady Awakened**_** by Cecilia Grant. Smut.)**

Caroline bites the inside of her cheek, fighting not to move, not to react, when Mr. Mikaelson moves inside of her in a particular way. It sends ripples of sensation, cascading through her body, and it takes a lot of control, not to make a sound.

She's not to enjoy this, Caroline scolds herself. It's not proper, what they're doing, and she's _only_doing it because she must. Denying her body's wants, the instinctive urge to move against him, _with him_, as hard as it has become, is what she has to do.

It's foreign to Caroline, the idea that this act can be pleasurable.

But sometimes she feels things that she'd not known her body was capable of, despite the mutterings of her lady's maid, and her own tentative explorations in the bath. She wants to hitch her legs higher, to chase the sparks he causes, wants to see if they can feel even better, with a little effort.

Marriage had not prepared her for this. A wife, for nearly four years, and relations with her husband had only ever been uncomfortable, truly the duty she'd always been told they would be. Her late husband's hands had been cold and perfunctory on her skin, shifting her body where he'd wanted it, brusque and dismissive of her wants. He'd always smelled of liquor, the day's sweat, and cigar smoke, when he'd visited her bed twice a week, in hopes of begetting an heir. He'd snuffed the candles, when he'd come in, likely so he'd have an easier time imagining another woman, a woman slighter than Caroline, with darker hair. Each time Damon had muttered, 'Elena,' right before he'd stiffened and quaked, then rolled off of her, leaving her alone in her chamber, without another word.

She'd felt cold and confused, after Damon's attentions, curling up until a maid had bustled in with warm water and a change of sheets. The maid's faces had been sympathetic, and Caroline hated pity, so she'd forced smiles before cleaning herself up, and retiring to sleep.

It's different, with Mr. Mikaelson.

From the beginning, he'd touched her gently, with care and something close to affection. He'd tried to kiss her, before she'd told him that such niceties weren't required, that she preferred to keep things businesslike. She needed his seed, he wanted her money. Best not to blur the lines by playing at romance, Caroline thought.

It's become harder and harder, to remember why, as the hours they've spent together have multiplied.

He's not at all what she'd imagined, Mr. Mikaelson. His father, a Duke, had sent him to rusticate in the country, during the height of the London season. Caroline had assumed his vices had caught up with him, drink or gambling or a scandal with a debutante, or perhaps a married lady.

She gets gossip sparingly, cloaked in mourning colors as she is, all of her friends away, enjoying balls and musicales. She'd written to Katherine, mentioning that Mr. Klaus Mikaelson was in residence, at the neighboring estate, knowing that her friend would be a font of information.

She hadn't had time, to wait for Katherine's reply, and so she'd plowed ahead with her proposal to him. A child that she could pass off as Damon's, was the only thing that would allow her a modicum of freedom. She'd needed a man, who would accept her offer, and Klaus had seemed a likely candidate. Additionally, upon meeting him, she'd realized that his light hair and blue eyes would mean that any resemblance could be passed off as the child simply favoring Caroline's own coloring.

So she'd issued an invitation to tea, under the guise of welcoming him to the area. She'd been taken aback, by how handsome he'd been, finding herself watching the grace of his hands, but had quickly reminded herself that beauty meant _nothing_. She'd been beguiled by Damon Salvatore's lovely eyes and pleasing features, as a green girl, enough to be fooled when he'd feigned interest in her dreams and hobbies.

In the end Damon had only been after her money, and Caroline would be a fool to believe that another man would be different.

Mr. Mikaelson had listened to her offer, dumbfounded, tried to talk her out of it. He'd been incredulous, but Caroline had been persistent, and eventually a bargain had been struck.

Mr. Mikaelson had proven to be intelligent, amusing, a witty conversationalist, though he probably would be considered crass, by the matrons of the haut ton. Caroline had always found them rather stuffy, compared to the lively dinners and parties her parents had thrown. Her father had made his fortune, penny by penny, with hard work and clever thinking, and he respected people who did the same, regardless of their last names. He'd invited rich industrialists, visiting aristocrats, up and coming inventors to dine at his table, without care for their station or sensibilities.

Coming to England, with all of its strict rules and protocols had been a shock. But her mother had wanted Caroline to be a princess, though in the end she'd reluctantly settled for her daughter being a marchioness.

Honestly, Caroline thinks she would have been happier, had she stayed at home, and married one of her father's business associates. At least then she'd never have had to smile, in the face of insults, about how coarse and common and _American_ she was.

But she hadn't stayed there, and there was no use on dwelling on what ifs. Caroline had a small window, of opportunity, to craft her life into something bearable. Giuseppe Salvatore and his younger son, Stefan, had been convinced that she needed privacy, to mourn, and as such were spending a few weeks in Newmarket, leaving Caroline alone with a bare minimum of servants. They were waiting, to see if she quickened with child, and she had no illusions about what would happen if she did not.

Caroline would once again become a pawn, and she refused to allow it.

Giuseppe would attempt to marry her off to Stefan, despite the fact that he was also desperately in love with Elena Gilbert (who, as the daughter of an impoverished viscount, was a poor choice for a family that, before Caroline's dowry had come along, had barely been managing to stave off creditors). She's thankful that her father had been crafty, negotiating marriage settlements that put a great deal of money at Caroline's disposal. And with that money, more power than most women could yield. Her dowry had been enormous and her husband granted a generous annual allowance. But Caroline's portion was greater, and her father had let her know that she need only write, and more would be provided. It's the very weapon Caroline had used, to get the Salvatore's to leave her be, if only for a month. She'd provided Giuseppe with the means to gamble, a pastime he was very fond of, despite a lack of skill that had caused the Salvatore's dire financial position, and he'd been happy to fall into her trap.

She could go back home to her parents, but Caroline doesn't trust her mother not to try for another aristocratic match. Elizabeth Forbes would not aim so high, on the second go around, because at three and twenty, having lost the bloom of youth, Caroline wouldn't be quite so attractive a commodity. But a baron, or perhaps a viscount, with pockets to let, was certainly possible.

Caroline had carefully considered her options, before deciding on her current path. A child was the best solution, for it's not as though she hadn't wanted one. A boy, hopefully, to inherit Damon's title. And if it was a girl, then Caroline would love her daughter, and would at least have bought time to formulate a new plan.

Klaus drops to his elbows, pressing his chest to hers, changing the angle of his erection inside of her, and Caroline isn't quick enough to bite back a gasp, can't help the arch of her hips, as he rubs against the exquisitely sensitive little nub of flesh at the apex of her thighs. He pauses, the motion of his hips stilling, looking down at her face, eyes wide in wonder.

"I'm sorry," Caroline apologizes, turning her face away, forcing her body to go limp against the mattress. "Please continue your… exertions."

Klaus groans, the sound different from the soft noises of pleasure he usually makes, almost frustrated. He withdraws abruptly, sits up, rolling to the side.

Caroline gathers the sheets, clutching them to her chest, despite the fact that she still wears her shift, "Is something the matter, Mr. Mikaelson?"

He scrubs a hand over his face, staring bleakly at the ceiling, "Just give me a moment, sweetheart. It's difficult for a man to feel inspired, when the lady would rather be mucking stables, than underneath him."

"Oh," Caroline replies, she hadn't considered that. "I'm sorry. My husband never seemed to mind, that I didn't want him in my bed."

He turns to her, a brief flash of anger crossing his features, "Don't apologize, love. Not for that. I'm rather glad your husband is dead, because I don't think I'd be able to resist the urge to soundly beat him."

Caroline doesn't know how to respond, though his vehemence warms her a little, adding to the respect and tenderness she's begun to feel for Mr. Mikaelson. She's careful to keep it hidden, of course. But it's there, nurtured by the conversations they've had, between couplings, by the little sketches he surprises her with, by the way he watches her, as if he's checking to ensure that she's comfortable, before proceeding, despite the fact that she's been allowing him liberties with her body for weeks.

He turns to her, plumping a pillow under his head, before he speaks, soft and entreating, "May I ask you something?"

"You may," Caroline replies, cautiously.

"Why do you fight yourself? Fight the things you feel, when we're together?"

"Because it's wrong," Caroline tells him, though he should already know, "A woman's duty…"

He makes a noise, low in his throat, derisive and wryly amused, "Don't just parrot the things the insufferable old crones in London told you to prepare you for your wedding night. Tell me the truth. Your body reacts to me. I've felt it. Lord knows I react to you," he nods downward, to where he's thick and hard, unashamed of his nakedness, inviting her gaze.

Caroline feels herself blushing, as her eyes track down his body. He still wears his shirt, but his coat, breeches, boots and undergarments have been discarded at the end of the bed.

It's not a conscious decision, to reach out, but she's curious, about what he would feel like. Realizing what she's doing, she makes to snatch her hand back, before it's breached the distance between them. But Mr. Mikaelson is quicker, grasping her hand before she can withdraw it, "Do you want to touch me, Caroline?"

Her eyes fly to his, at the use of her name. She's not given him leave to use it, has persisted in calling him 'Mr. Mikaelson,' despite his protests.

"Because you can," he tells her. "I want you to. Nearly as badly as I want to touch you."

She twists her wrist, and he immediately lets go. She watches his face, as she reaches for him, resting her palm on his belly, beneath his shirt. His eyes widen, and his lips press together, but he doesn't look away from her, even an she lets her fingers wander down, along the trail of hair there, a shade or two darker than the curls on his head.

His breath hitches, as she wraps her hand around the base of him, and his throat bobs with a harsh swallow, as she strokes upwards, marvelling at the heat of him.

"Is this right?" she asks, because Damon had preferred to touch himself, to make himself ready, and so she'd rarely been made to assist him.

Mr. Mikaelson reaches down, wraps his fingers around hers, tightening her grip, "It's perfect, love. Just a little tighter, I won't break."

She does as he instructs, watching his eyes flutter shut, his face tight with strain. He lets out a curse, body jolting, when she rubs her thumb over the tip of him, then down the pulsing vein along the underside.

She's about to do it again, likes the reaction she'd pulled from him, when he gently brushes her hand away. She looks up, puzzled, because it had seemed as if he'd liked what she'd been doing, very much.

He answers her unspoken question, "You did nothing wrong, and everything right. Too right, and I'd have spent, far too early."

She nods, because she thinks she understands. And then she takes a deep breath asking uncertainly, "Do you still want to touch me?"

"Yes," he tells her, as soon as the words are out of her mouth. "Very much so. But not if you're uncomfortable with the idea. Not if you think it's wrong."

"I suppose it's only fair," Caroline murmurs, looking away from him.

But he's unwilling to accept that, shaking his head, and inching closer, cupping her cheek, his blue eyes dark and solemn, "I don't give a damn about fair, Caroline. What do you want?"

She bites her lip, wishing she could turn her face away, afraid he sees too much. Finally she nods, hoping that's enough, because she's not brave enough to say the words.

He surprises her, by sitting up again, striping of his shirt and climbing out of bed. He goes to the windows, throwing back the heavy drapes. They're on the highest floor of the estate, so no one will see them, and late afternoon sunshine fills the room.

He motions for her to follow him and hesitantly, Caroline crawls to the edge of the bed, before padding over to meet him where he stands, in the centre of a thick carpet. He rests his hands on her shoulders, before he slips behind her, and she feels his hands wind into her hair, slipping down to the end of the thick braids she wears.

"May I let your hair loose, Caroline?"

She nods, helpless to the low, smooth tone he uses. His hands are careful, not pulling, and he massages her scalp where the pins had dug in, and she leans into him, closing her eyes in contentment at the unexpected, sweet, caress. Soon, long curls are spilling down her back, and he runs his hands through the length of her hair reverently, letting out an appreciative hum, "Beautiful. Just like I'd imagined."

He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her back to rest against his front, presses a kiss to her temple. "Now, I'd like it if you removed your shift, love."

She stills against him, the nerves that he'd coaxed away flooding back. He runs his hands down her bare arms, presses his face into her hair, "Please, Caroline? Trust me, if only just for an afternoon?"

She does trust him. Has every confidence that he has no desire to hurt her. Believes him, when he calls her beautiful. And what's another sin, on top of all the others?

Caroline brings her own hands up to the neckline of the shirt, works the tiny pearl buttons through the holes, and he rewards her, applying his lips to her neck, sucking kisses and the edge of his teeth leaving heat pooling low in her stomach.

She shrugs her shoulders, letting the cotton fall to the floor. He urges her to step out of it, drawing her backwards, towards where she knows the bed is. His skin against hers is a new feeling, novel but nice, and she sort of wishes to pause, to further absorb it. But then he stops, when they're right up against the bed, coming around to face her.

He tilts her chin up, gaze intent on her face for several long moments. Whatever he finds seems to please him, for he sits on the bed, moving backwards so he sits propped up against the headboard. When he's situated, he reaches for her hand, urging her to climb in next to him. She sits, curling her legs to the side, using an arm to shield her breasts from his view.

He smiles, and shakes his head, cupping the back of her neck, "So modest, love. I hardly expected it, from the woman who so blatantly propositioned me."

Caroline looks down, her hair falling in front of her face, hiding her embarrassment, "I'm…"

But he cuts off her apology, pressing a fingertip to her lower lip, "No. Don't say you're sorry. You shouldn't be. You're a complicated puzzle, Caroline Forbes, and I quite like trying to put the pieces together."

He runs his hand down her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, pulling her insistently towards him. She catches herself, with her hands on his chest, "Put your knees next to my hips," he instructs quietly, "I expect it will feel odd, for a bit, and I curse that thoughtless bastard you married for that."

Caroline's sure her complexion has gone from flushed to beet red, but she follows the gentle directions of his hands, until her center is pressed to his abdomen, and his face is level with her breasts.

She's about to ask him if she's positioned herself correctly, but when she looks down he's focused on her breasts, looking like a starving man at the most lavish of feasts. Her nipples tighten, at the attention, just beginning to ache. He leans his forehead, on her chest, and when he mutters, "Beautiful," Caroline's not sure if she'd been meant to hear it.

His lips drag down the slope of her breast, before his lips close around her nipple. Caroline digs her nails into his shoulder, her eyes widening at the feeling, as he worries the peak with lips and tongue and teeth. Her head falls back, hips shifting forward, offering him more of her, demanding more of him.

He pulls back with a pop, switching breasts, but bringing his hand up to tease where he'd left. Caroline's hips shift, without her permission, seeking friction where she's pressed against him. His hand on her back pulls her into him, helping her rock, until her breaths are coming in short gasps, and she feels sweat beading along her hairline.

She feels his hand on her thigh, sliding higher, and it's him who moans, when he touches the heat of her. His thumb parts her, circling where she is most sensitive, before sliding lower to dip inside, gathering some of her slickness. He sinks a finger into her, his thumb returning to rub and tease. She's not thinking, and it's glorious, moving against his clever fingers with abandon, letting out gasps as he finds new ways to touch her, to drive her pleasure higher.

"That's it," he coaxes, voice rough, "feel it, love. It's good, isn't it? Just a little more. Let go, and it'll be even better. I promise."

His fingers crook, inside of her, his thumb pressing hard, and Caroline lets out a sharp cry, slumping against him, as the tension snaps and her limbs seem unwilling to obey her commands, pleasure thrumming through them.

It takes a while, for her mind to clear, and when it does she's pressed against him, and he's stroking her hair, his arousal solid and evident between them.

"What was that?" Caroline asks, pulling back to look at him, feeling light and content.

"That," Klaus tells her, his voice a low rumble, "was something you should have experienced before now, sweetheart. And it's practically criminal that you have not, in my opinion. There's so much passion in you, so much you could experience."

"Will you show me?" Caroline blurts out, impulsively.

He smiles, slow and delighted, "It would be my greatest pleasure. But I want two things, in return. First, I want you to kiss me."

Caroline brings her hands to his face, runs her palms over his stubble, before she leans in. He's patient, opening his mouth, softly encouraging her to do the same, brushing his tongue over hers teasingly. She's breathless when she pulls back, but fighting a smile of her own.

"And the second thing?" she asks expectantly, without any wariness or fear.

He flips them, unexpectedly, and Caroline lets out a squeal that melts into a laugh. He braces his hands on either side of her head, settling his body between her thighs, "The next time you come apart like that, I want you to say my name. Klaus, not Mr. Mikaelson. Can you do that?"

She pulls his head down, pressing his mouth to hers once more, craving another taste of him, in lieu of an answer.

* * *

**Meet You There**

**(A combo of prompts – from klarolineforevermine: ****1920's AU where Klaus is the head mobster in Chicago and Caroline is his club's newest lounge singer. From an Anon: caroline as a jazz singer set in the 1920's in chicago, caroline was turned sometime in the 1900's and met klaus in chicago in the 1920's. Title from 'Singin' My Soul by Gin Wigmore. Smut.)**

The boy looks nervous, as he approaches Klaus' table, which proves he's smarter than most. He's young, both in human years and to vampirism. He's not unbearably cocky, a refreshing change from the last one that'd brought Klaus news, the one who'd barely made it through the conversation with his heart in its proper cavity. Both belong to the group of vampires Klaus has turned and compelled in Chicago. A smallish group, only a dozen or so, who serve as an early warning system. They're useful, for information, keeping their ears to the ground, with strict instructions to come directly to him, with anything out of the ordinary. And, if need be, they'll distract Mikael long enough for Klaus to haul Rebekah and the rest of his siblings out of the city.

Klaus has been running for a nine hundred years, and he's learned that buying a few extra minutes is sometimes all he needs. The boy stands at the entrance of Klaus' booth shifts uneasily, avoiding eye contact, and Klaus makes a gesture for him to just get on with it already, "There's a new vampire around," the lad stutters, avoiding eye contact. "Pretty bird, wants to sing."

Klaus finds he can't remember this one's name. Claude, or Clyde? Perhaps Clarence? No matter. Above average brains or not, he's still disposable, "Send her to me," Klaus demands, with a lazy flick of his wrist.

He doesn't have to wait long, for his demands to be heeded, another point in the boy's favor. He escorts a woman through the crowd. Klaus glimpses blonde curls pinned under, to give the illusion of the short style women of this decade favor, and bare shoulders, though her face is turned away. The pair of them stop before Klaus, and she yanks her elbow away from her escort, lips thinning in annoyance, tipping her head to the side, and speaking to him, "Manhandled and no one even offered me a drink? Has no one ever explained to you gentlemen how to show a lady a good time?"

The boy looks scared, edging away, as if he's afraid to get blood on his suit. But luckily for the blonde with the mouth, Klaus is in a good mood. And, now that she's right in front of him, he can see that she's lovely enough that it really would be a shame to separate her head from her body, without a very good reason.

"Apologies, love. For my startling lack of manners," Klaus pats the seat next to him in invitation. "Join me, for a drink? Or would you prefer something more refined. Perhaps champagne?"

"Whatever you're having is fine. I'm not as delicate as I appear."

She picks up her skirt, sliding in gracefully, though she keeps her distance, leaving more than enough room for another person between them. Holding his eyes with hers, she reaches past him, and snatches up his glass. Klaus raises an eyebrow, and she takes a dainty sip, a taunting smirk on her burgundy painted lips, "I'm quite sure that's not mannerly either, love," he reproaches mockingly.

She shrugs, taking a deeper pull of the liquor, and Klaus' eyes are drawn to the smooth pale skin of her shoulders, the light freckles along the line of them, "There's a good chance you'll kill me tonight, Klaus. And I'd rather go out with a bang."

He stills, his eyes snapping to her face. She looks calm, and composed, even when he moves so he's right against her, winding his hands in the beads around her neck. She makes no move to escape, even when his face changes, and he dips down, his fangs near her throat. But Klaus merely inhales deeply. Her scent is pleasant, just a touch alluring, and in any other situation Klaus might have taken a taste. But he's got pressing matters to deal with, so he withdraws, grasps her chin, and looks into her eyes, preparing to compel the truth out of her, "Why are you here?"

When he pulls back to let her answer, she gives him a sad smile, "I can't be compelled."

"Impossible," Klaus denies heatedly. He would know, he's sure, of such an immunity, and he's never encountered one before, "You must be on vervain. Don't worry, love. I'll have it drained out of you right quick. I'll even do it myself."

She shakes her head, and then she's bringing her wrist to her mouth, fangs dropping before she bites down, offering it to him. "Should probably use the glass, but that bootlegged rum is a mite strong."

Klaus accepts her hand, stroking a thumb across her palm, watching the flicker of interest pass through her eyes, before he brings it to his mouth. He licks at the blood that's spilled, listens to her pulse pick up. He has to concentrate, harder than he'd like, given the precarious situation. But she might be the best thing he's ever tasted, and it's a serious test of his control, not to bite down and take more. There's no hint of the sting, the lingering bitterness, vervain drinkers always have, in her blood.

He waits until the wound closes, and then he pours another drink, nudging it towards her. "Start talking, sweetheart. Start with your name, and how you can do the impossible."

"My name is Caroline. Caroline Forbes."

"Pretty," Klaus remarks lightly.

"I'm sure my long dead mother would appreciate the compliment," Caroline replies flatly, knocking back the liquor in one gulp, "But your father killed her."

Klaus digests that, and what it could mean. Grudges are often useful, to bind allies and exploit in enemies. "I'd offer my condolences, but I sense there's more to the story."

She laughs, but the sound holds no true amusement and Klaus finds that it grates, "It was a very long time ago. More than a lifetime."

"Why did Mikael kill her?" Klaus asks.

"Why does Mikael do anything?" she shoots back, lips twisting scornfully. "A grand plan to get to you, my mother just a stepping stone. You're different, you know. Then what he says you are."

Klaus' teeth clench, and he works to keep his voice even, "Mikael doesn't know me, not at all."

Her face changes, becomes determined, a glint of anger entering her eyes, "Nor me. And that's _exactly_ why I'm here."

"Go on," Klaus prompts Caroline, studying her. There's turmoil, underneath her calm countenance, rage and resolve but he senses no fear. All things that Klaus thinks that may be useful, and all of them intriguing.

She lets out a long sigh, gaze tracking upwards, as she appears to gather her thoughts, "My father hunted creatures such as us, taught himself to resist compulsion, taught me too. I don't know how he met your father, but they formed an alliance of sorts, to end you and your siblings, and end vampires as a race."

"A yes. Mikael's tedious mission. That he's failed at, repeatedly, century after century."

"Eight or so, when the bargain was struck."

"Still," Klaus counters, "not the most glowing of track records, you must agree."

"I did. And I argued with my father. Was told to concentrate on my first season, and leave everything to him. 'You sing beautifully, Caroline, but your watercolors need some work.' Was what he said to me. Never was much of an artist, and I confess I was always mystified about how landscapes were supposed to make me a more suitable prospect for matrimony. But my mother insisted," she pauses, looks faintly embarrassed, and turns to look at him, "I'm sorry. I'm sure you don't want to hear about out dated husband hunting strategies. It's just, I've not thought about them for so long."

"It's quite all right," Klaus tells her, and he means it. There's something about the lilt of her voice that he enjoys, something that tells him she's probably not exaggerating her abilities as a singer. But, he needs to hear the rest, "What happened next?"

"Your father betrayed mine, of course. Killed him, killed my mother. Turned me. Was delighted, when he found I could still resist his attempts to compel me, after I'd changed. Told me that a pretty blonde distraction would be far more useful than my father had been, in the long run. Threatened to kill the rest of my family, and all of my friends, if I didn't cooperate."

"And now? Forgive me, love. But this seems like the opposite of cooperating," he gestures between the two of them, the lack of distance between them. He believes her, but Klaus isn't one to trust blindly, so he doesn't mask the edge of suspicion.

Her expression turns wry, her head tipping to the side. A loose curl tumbles down against her shoulder, and Klaus clenches his hand to keep himself from brushing it away, "It's been a hundred and seventeen years, Klaus. Everyone I've ever loved is dead. Mikael's convinced I've come to think like him, that I hate being a vampire."

"Do you? Do you hate what you are?" Klaus asks even though he already knows the answer. The way she moves, it's not like someone who loathes the skin they inhabit. She's comfortable, with what she's become, and Klaus thinks she'd be magnificent, with her monster unleashed.

"No. I don't want to die. But I don't want to be a prisoner anymore either. It's not living. Chasing Mikael who's chasing you. Hardly a life."

"So you hope to bargain with me? Tell me, what's my father's grand plan?"

This time it's Caroline who moves, presses herself up against him, and leans in, so he can feel her breath against his neck, she pitches her voice low, exaggeratedly throaty, "I'm supposed to seduce you."

Klaus smiles, glances around the club, at the interested looks they're getting, people quickly looking away and smirking behind hands and glasses when they see him looking. She's cunning, this one, because to a passerby it must look like she's succeeding.

"And then?" he asks, giving in to the urges he's been fighting, playing with a strand of her hair.

"Then I lure you to my hotel, where Mikael's waiting, with a weapon that can kill you." She pulls back, her nose wrinkling, "Seemed thin, when he presented it to me. But maybe you have a reputation for letting your libido run the show? I was only given two weeks."

"Hardly," Klaus denies, though he's quite sure Mikael still thinks of him as that lovesick boy, panting after Tatia. It's always worked in Klaus' favor, Mikael's tendency to underestimate him. "I'm not one to be fooled by a pretty face, and pleasing figure, though I'll admit I find you more tempting than most."

She bites her lip, and this time when she touches him, it doesn't feel like a game, her fingers lingering on the skin of his throat, left bare by his undone bowtie and open collar, "And you haven't even heard me sing," she returns flirtatiously.

"That can be changed, love."

She pulls back, a gleam of excitement lighting her eyes, "Really? I've always wanted to, for a crowd. I was supposed to excel, but be modest, as a girl. Singing outside of drawing rooms and musicales was for mistresses and whores, or so I was told."

It's infectious, her delight, and Klaus finds himself motioning for the boy, who's been hovering nearby, and telling him to escort Caroline to the stage, with instructions that the band will play whatever the lady wishes, for as long as she wishes.

She goes with a bounce in her step, beaded dress swinging tantalizingly around her calves. She mounts the steps to the platform where the band plays, only the fluttering of her hands betraying her nerves. The band starts to play, and it's familiar, though Klaus hardly cares, his eyes trained on her. She licks her lips and closes her eyes, and when her mouth opens, and she starts to sing, a hush falls over the crowd, as the conversations and drinks fail to hold anyone's interest, with the magic happening on stage.

Her voice is low and sultry, and she sings with more feeling than anyone Klaus has ever heard. There's longing and pain and little sparks of hope and wonder, which stops her performance from being depressing. He understands the gaping that the crowd is doing. Because under the spotlight, blonde hair shining, she seems sweet and innocent and she can't pass for much more than twenty. What has this girl lived, they must be wondering, to sing like that?

Klaus has an inkling. He'd spent twenty six years, with Mikael, after all. And it seems like she's spent quite a number more.

The applause is thunderous, when the final notes of the song fade away. And Caroline's eyes pop open, her expression shocked, like she'd forgotten she wasn't alone. She throws her head back and laughs, loud and joyous. Then she turns to the bandleader, whispers a few words, and a more upbeat tune rings out.

And then she's dancing, eyes open this time, working the crowd like she's done it a thousand times.

Klaus settles back to watch, waving away the fresh bottle that's been brought to the table. He's had most of the previous one already, and while that's not enough to get him drunk, another would get him close. And he wants to be sober for this, for Caroline Forbes, in her element, in case he never gets to see it again.

* * *

Caroline sings another half a dozen songs, before she bows, and thanks the crowd. They protest, loudly, begging her to sing another, but she waves away their shouts bashfully, making for the steps. A small clump of men, wait for her, at the foot of the stage, asking her name, offering to buy her a drink, dinner, a fur coat. She looks flattered, and overwhelmed, but Klaus, waiting a few paces behind the group calls out, in a tone that accepts no arguments, "The lady is with me."

One of Caroline's would be suitors turns, looking like he's spoiling for a fight, but he quickly subsides when he sees Klaus. The humans know of him, have all sorts of wild theories about who he is, and what he does. They know he's dangerous, and not to be crossed, exactly how Klaus prefers it.

"Sorry, gents," Caroline demurs, flashing a pretty smile, "This girl's dance card is full."

Klaus offers her his arm, and she takes it, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder in a goodbye. He leads her outside, stopping briefly to let the club owner know that he's to tell Rebekah that Klaus has left for the evening, if she and Stefan ever show, and that he expects to see her at the house, for breakfast tomorrow.

The man fears him, though not nearly as much as he enjoys Klaus' money, so Klaus is confident his message will be delivered.

Caroline looks up at the sky, does a quick spin, letting out a squeal, "_That_ was amazing."

"You were," Klaus agrees, and she grins, fit to light a city street.

She falls into step with him and they walk in silence, for a few blocks. He sneaks looks at her, admiring her flushed cheeks, and bright eyes, how she's nearly glowing with excitement, fidgeting like she still wants to be dancing.

Caroline catches him looking, and Klaus is not a boy, hasn't been for a long time. He's long since ceased to feel ashamed of his desires. And he wants her. So he holds her gaze, notes her eyes turning dark, once she understands his intent. She licks her lips, and Klaus feels the air between them grows tense with anticipation. Caroline turns to him abruptly, pulling him to a stop in front of her, "Take me somewhere," she demands, stepping into his body, pressing her curves against him, leaving no illusions about what she's offering.

"Have you no sense self-preservation, sweetheart?" Klaus asks, watching her expression carefully, still not sure this isn't a ploy, "You haven't even asked me if I'm going to kill you."

She shakes her head, "I don't care. Tomorrow you'll kill me, or tomorrow I'll run. But that's hours away and tonight's the first time I've felt free in my entire life. I want to enjoy it. And I want you to take me somewhere more private, so I can enjoy it with you. Anywhere you want. Blindfold me, if you wish."

Klaus reads nothing but sincerity from her, so he nods, stepping into a street to flag down a cab, giving the driver directions to a luxurious hotel, in the heart of the city.

He'll not think of his father, at least until the sun rises. He'll buy or compel the hotel's best room, have Caroline on fine sheets, and against the windows. Maybe in the bath, in the wee hours of the morning. As many times as the night and creativity allow.

And then he'll decide what to do with her.

* * *

Caroline doesn't waste time, when they get to the suite Klaus has arranged. The doors have scarcely closed, and she'd undoing the zipper of her dress, slipping it from her shoulders, her eyes heavy lidded and watching him, over her shoulder, the weight of the beads pulling the fabric down her body, with barely a shimmy from her required.

She'd gone without a corset, wears only pink knickers, and black silk stockings, held up with sliver garters. She turns to him, lifting the numerous necklaces she'd been wearing over her head, letting them slip from her fingers and tumble to the carpet.

Caroline sits on the edge of the bed, watching him, toeing off her heels, "Well? I think you're overdressed."

Klaus shakes his head, lets out a laugh, but obliges her, letting his clothes fall to the ground, piece by piece. She matches him, unclipping the garters, and rolling down her stockings, before she eases back on the mattress, propping herself up onto her elbows and waiting for him with her thighs parted.

Klaus crawls over her, kissing her stomach, and she falls back with a moan, nipping up her ribcage, until she tangles her fingers in his hair. He bypasses her breasts, something she grumbles about, until he takes her mouth in a fierce kiss, plundering until she's arching up against him, hitching a leg around his hip.

Klaus follows the line of her neck with his lips, pays special attention to what makes her jolt against him. He reaches down, tearing her knickers off, finds that their slow, teasing disrobing has left her slick and ready, and he sinks two fingers inside of her easily.

He works his fingers into her slowly, leaves her clit alone, until she's clenching around him, and her hips are shifting restlessly, while she breathes raggedly into his skin. And then he rolls off of her, pulling her astride him, so quickly that she looks surprised, once she finds herself looking down at him. "I believe you wanted freedom, sweetheart. So take what you want," it's a taunt, low and gravelly, as Klaus leisurely brings his hand up, licks the evidence of her arousal off of his fingers.

And Caroline rises to the challenge beautifully, as he'd known she would, giving his cock a few strokes, just the right kind of rough, before she positions him at her opening, enveloping him in one quick downward motion. She doesn't give either of them time to adjust, rocking above him, setting a frantic rhythm. Klaus sits up, before long, the bouncing of her breasts too much for him to resist, and he dips his head, sucking one into his mouth, pulling a moan from her with the scape of his teeth.

He clutches her hips, pulls her down onto him. She's got her hands on his shoulders, a little more pressure and her nails will draw blood.

"Klaus," she gasps before long, "I'm so…"

"I know," he mutters hoarsely, because the way she feels around him, slick and hot, her walls fluttering, is making it hard for him to hold on. A few strokes of his thumb over her clit, and she's crying out his name, shaking in his lap. Klaus lets go of his tightly held control, thrusts into her, a few more times, and buries his face in her throat to muffle the groan he lets out when he comes.

* * *

They barely speak, for hours, letting their bodies talk, knowing that words will ruin things. Klaus has her again, in the bed, tastes her until she screams. Against the window, her front pressed to the cold glass. Bent over a table, underneath him on the floor. By the time they make it to the bath she seems tired, rests against him complacently in the sweet smelling water, turning her head to nuzzle into his throat. And then it's Caroline, who breaks the spell, her voice quiet and resigned, none of her earlier exuberance remaining, "I suppose now's when I should tell you about Mikael?"

Klaus nods, and she begins to talk. Detailing what she knows of Mikael's plans, allies and associates. He asks questions, dozens of them, possibly hundreds, and she answers without complaint, long after the bath has turned cold.

He leaves her alone to dry off, and they dress in silence, once she emerges, as the sun spills into the room. When Caroline's finished applying her makeup, she turns to him, hands twisting anxiously, though she tilts her chin stubbornly, and doesn't allow her voice to waver, "Is this goodbye? Or is this…"

Klaus crosses the room, kisses her one last time, thoroughly, filing this moment away, until she's clutching his suit jacket and eagerly meeting him, stroke for stroke. He'd been fairly certain he wouldn't be able to kill her last night, when she'd shamelessly pulled her dress off. And he had decided in the bath, when she'd offered more information about Mikael's operations than he'd ever been able to glean, and asked for nothing in return, that she was far too sweet for death.

"This is goodbye, Caroline," Klaus assures her, trying to convey the things he can't say with his actions. Her eyes are closed, lashes wet, features filled with relief, "And it's good luck. You're clever enough to survive, at least a few more centuries. Perhaps I'll see you again."


	15. klarolineauweek1 AU: The Future

**Notes: **These two little drabbles were written for klarolineauweek Day Three. The theme was AU: The Future. My plans got mega derailed for that day, unfortunately, but I hope these aren't too bad. At the end of yesterday (Day Five!) there had been nearly 100 new fanworks posted!

**May You Have A Strong Foundation**

**(From klarolineforevermine: Future canon prompt where Caroline finds out that the French authorities are cutting love locks off of the Pont des Arts bridge in Paris so she and Klaus find another way to leave their mark on the city of love. Title from "Forever Young" by Bob Dylan. Rated T.)**

"Klaus!"

Klaus woke with a start. His dream version of Caroline had also been saying his name. It might have more of a moan, in his mind. Hearing her shout it, from a distance, in concert with his subconscious, was a bit jarring.

He vaguely remembers her getting out of bed, remembers protesting and trying to pull her back, until she'd swatted him away with a laugh.

He hears her mounting the stairs, at a quick human pace, muttering to herself, a tinge irate. Klaus sat up, leaned back against the headboard, letting the covers pool at his waist. He's not sure what could possibly be the matter, as they'd only returned to New Orleans the day before yesterday, and it's far too early for Caroline and Rebekah to be sniping at one another. It usually takes at least a week or two for them to begin grating on one another.

Klaus is already thinking of the ways in which he'll cheer her up. Coaxing Caroline out of a temper has become one of his very favorite pastimes, one he's proud to excel at.

Caroline breezes into the room, carrying two white paper cups, the day's newspaper tucked under her arm. She smiles when she sees him, though the line on her forehead that shows up when she'd irritated remains, "Good," she says briskly, "you're up."

Klaus refrains from mentioning that he hadn't been, before her loud entrance. He eyes the pretty floral dress she wears pointedly, "I thought we agreed to no clothes on the Saturdays?"

He's sure he remembers something about that, back when they'd been house hunting. Caroline had wanted a 'non-you Mikaelson free zone' and Klaus had been happy to oblige, until they'd actually gone looking at places. Caroline had pushed for something much smaller than Klaus had favored, because she tended to dislike the way the various maids they had hired over the years cleaned.

Klaus telling her to just compel them to do things the way she wanted them to be done _had not_ gone over well.

Neither had his tendency to eat people who displeased Caroline.

But that had been decades ago, and they'd long since learned to compromise. For example, he only ate people who tried to hurt her, or someone close to them, these days. Fine progress, Klaus thought. And there were enough attempts that he rarely got bored.

She'd eventually won the argument about the house, not that they spent much time in it, only returning to New Orleans when between bouts of wanderlust. Last time they'd spent a month in the city, before heading off the explore New Zealand for another three.

Klaus thinks it'll be a shorter stay, this time, though he imagines they'll just head a bit further north. Caroline likes Autumn, likes to watch the leaves change and feel the air chill. Perhaps they'll go back to Montreal, this year.

Klaus' just beginning to plan when Caroline interrupts with a snort, hopping up onto the bed, setting her paper tray on the night table, "Pretty sure I never _agreed_ to that one. We just happen to usually spend Saturdays in bed, and it's kind of a waste to put on clothes. Less things for you to rip, and me to replace. It's just practical."

Klaus tugs at the hem of her dress, hoping she'll take the hint and _remove_ it, before he answers, "And why are we breaking that tradition, again?"

"Bon texted me and told me that the Pumpkin Spice Lattes were out. And I wanted one."

So that was the odd smell, emanating from the cups.

"I got you a regular boring coffee. And then I saw this,"

Caroline unfolds the newspaper, shaking it in Klaus' face. He sees the picture, and immediately knows why she's so upset. "Ah, they're clearing the bridge again?"

"Yes! Blah blah blah structural soundness. Blah blah blah safety. How dare they?" her voice rises with Caroline's outrage, and she nearly tears the paper in two, before setting it aside with a huff.

"Humans are rather delicate, love. Unlikely to survive a bridge collapse."

"Um, then maybe they should build better bridges? Technology, hello?"

Klaus studies her for a moment, registers the rigidness of her posture. She's genuinely upset, and his instinct is to fix it. "Come here," he says, patting the bed in front of him. Caroline shifts over, curling into his chest, and Klaus kisses her shoulder, "This is because we have a lock there, yes?"

She sighs, "I know it's stupid, and silly…"

"You are neither of those things, Caroline," Klaus tells her firmly.

She relaxes against him slightly, "It was our first trip to Paris. Our first trip period."

Klaus smiles, wraps one of her curls around his finger, "I remember it well. Kol still mocks me about those pictures you put on that infernal website."

"I like cheesy tourist traps, okay? Sue me."

"And I like going places with you. And you let me show you the proper sights, before too long."

"Yeah, yeah," Caroline mutters, "Mr. Older Than Dirt knows all the cool spots. Don't brag."

"Likely impossible, as you well know." She's still frowning, glaring at the discarded paper, so Klaus asks, "Would you like to book a flight to Paris? We can look up the appropriate officials, and persuade them to change their minds? A project always makes you happy, I know."

They could be in the Paris townhouse in twelve hours. A little compulsion, a lot of money. Or vice versa. Klaus had found that few things couldn't be changed with that particular combination.

She pokes his side half-heartedly, though her lips tilt in an attempt at a smile, "It's international news. I don't think even you can put that cat back in the bag."

Klaus thinks he could. But he's also sure that Elijah would have many, many words for him, and he'd rather avoid yet another tedious discussion about discretion, and going to extremes.

"Hmm. Would you like to do something else?" Klaus offers. "We could break into The Louvre. Carve our initials into the wall behind The Mona Lisa."

She giggles at that, bright and warm, "You can't break into The Louvre."

"Why ever not?" Klaus asks, puzzled. "I've done it before."

Caroline twists her head to look at him, expression incredulous. Perhaps Klaus hadn't got around to telling her that particular story just yet? It was often hard to keep track. He'd lived so long, after all, didn't bother to keep many secrets, from Caroline.

"When was this? _Why_ was this?" Caroline asks, more curious than reproachful.

"The early 1980's. I decided I wanted something, they had it. So I made a copy, and switched them out."

Caroline shakes her head, "Right. Of course. Because _that's_ a logical explanation."

Klaus ignores her sarcasm, "Additionally, it was quite fun."

Caroline merely sighs, reaching for her coffee, and taking a sip.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, and when Klaus speaks again it's quiet, intimate, just for her, "We'll go to Paris again. As many times as you want. Mark the city, any way your heart desires."

Skepticism crosses her features, "We just went two years ago. You don't want to go back so soon, do you?"

Klaus shrugs, "It's always been one of my favorite cities. And I have fond memories of all of our visits. I'm sure the hotel we stayed at last time will never be the same, hmm?"

"Yeah, we're definitely not welcome back there," Caroline says, looking momentarily guilty.

"So we'll go if you want to. But know that we're going to outlast that bridge, Caroline. That bridge, those people who decided to take the locks down. The city of Paris. All of it."

Klaus lets her see that he _means_ it, when she meets his gaze, her eyes widening slightly.

He'd promised to be her last love, and it's not a thing he'd said lightly. Klaus had known the weight of eternity, when he'd made that promise. Known what forever meant. And he'd seen Caroline Forbes in his, had been determined that he would be hers.

He can't be killed, and as long as he's alive, nothing will touch her. And they'll be together, long after the sites she drags him to are dust.

Telling her he loves her isn't easy, for Klaus. And she's always accepted that, accepted his actions in lieu of his words. This is one of those moments, where Klaus wants her to know it. To know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he'll do anything for her.

Caroline bites her lip, nods, fighting a grin. The soft look in her eyes, the way she presses closer, tell Klaus that she understands what he'd been trying to convey. She adopts a teasing tone, "Well, if the great Klaus Mikaelson says so, who am I to argue?"

She sets her cup aside, kneeling, and peeling off her dress. Klaus raises his eyebrows appreciatively, helps her untangle his lower body from the sheets, as she drops kisses down his chest, "Naked Saturday's back on then?"

She presses him back, glancing up mischievously, "I'm thinking we break tradition, and make it a naked Sunday, too."

Klaus, of course, has no objections.

**My Mind Holds The Key**

**(Pure crackfic. Sorrynotsorry! Inspired by **_**Invasion of The Body Snatchers**_**. Title from "My Body Is A Cage" by Arcade Fire. Rated T.) **

Something was rotten in the state of Denmark.

Good man, that Shakespeare, Kol had always thought. Knew his way around a phrase, could hold his drink, and was rather charming with the ladies, for all that he'd been slightly homely.

The little line he'd penned centuries ago had been ringing through Kol's mind on a loop.

Because Kol was convinced that something was seriously off in Denmark, or rather, New Orleans. Because here he stands watching elder brother, feared by supernatural creatures the world over, stroll down the street, with a tiny human attached to his hand.

Kol's been in the city for three days, had begun tailing Nik last night. And as the hours had passed he'd become more and more confused.

His plan had been to wait for the appropriate time to spring up. One had to pick their moments, and 'Hello brother, I'm alive, not that you care, you tremendous gobermouch' needed a certain amount of preparation, of finesse, to be truly satisfying.

Privacy was also important. Things were likely to get deliciously violent. Because Nik deserved a few hits, for not killing the bloody doppelganger, her brother, and her pet Salvatore's.

The Bennett witch he might have understood letting live. At least she was useful. And the pretty blonde hadn't been in on the plan, as far as Kol had gleaned, and Nik had been rather besotted, so he supposed he could understand why she still lived.

But the rest of them? It was honestly offensive to Kol, that they were still out there somewhere, living insipid, pointless lives, without a care for the fact that they'd killed him, and the thousands of vampires that made up his line. Still thinking themselves the good guys, patting themselves on the back, for their righteousness.

Kol would rectify that. Soon.

But first, he had to get to the bottom of whatever nonsense was happening here.

When he'd first seen Nik with the child he'd wondered if his brother's feeding habits had drastically changed. They didn't eat children, as a rule. Like wine, or cheese, or proper scotch, humans needed a little age, a couple of vices. Otherwise they were horribly bland.

They'd lived in the world long before salt was available on every table, and had no wish to return to those dark times, when food and drink had been more necessity than pleasure.

But really, stranger things had happened, so perhaps Nik's tastes had simply changed?

But then Kol had witnessed Nik take the wee person to a gated stone building, that appeared to be some sort of school. A mass of screaming uniformed sprogs milled about the front gates, until a bell rung and they entered the doors en masse.

Nik had hugged the child, patted her head affectionately, and sent her on her way, watching until she was safely in the building. And Kol had lived a long time, even discounting the time he'd spent in a coffin, dagger keeping him from experiencing the passage of time. But few things had shocked him more than that sight.

It was nearly traumatizing.

And all the while, Nik had not noticed Kol's presence. Even though, in his floored stupour, Kol had been rather less stealthy than he should have been, or was capable of. He'd never been able to sneak up on Nik, even when they'd been children. His brother was the most paranoid being on the planet, had honed his senses, was always wary of being attacked. That he'd not sensed Kol's gaze was more than a little odd. Kol had continued to follow his brother, right to a brick building, a few blocks north of the quarter.

Nik had gone inside, and Kol had noted a shining gold plaque next to the door, proclaiming it the office of some sort of therapist.

Nik had spent just over an hour inside, before he'd emerged, accompanied by a woman who had giggled rather loudly, audible from Kol's positon across the street, at something his brother had said, standing a little closer, than was generally considered polite (or professional).

It seemed rather contrived. Kol had lived with Nik for centuries. He wasn't _that_ funny.

Once Nik and the woman had been out of sight, Kol had easily broken the lock on the door, and slipped inside. A quick rifle through a cabinet had unearthed a file with Nik's name on it.

Upon opening it Kol had nearly had to take a seat, so flabbergasted was he at the contents.

Nik was in _therapy_. Had been for _years_. There were pages upon pages of (simplistic and usually off base, in Kol's opinion) observations. And the occasional tiny heart, doodled in the margins.

It was a lot to process. And only left Kol more convinced that something was very, very wrong.

He needed a witch.

* * *

Luckily, witches weren't hard to find, in New Orleans.

But finding one willing to help a strange vampire? That was proving to be a bit of a struggle.

Kol's getting frustrated, walking down the street, shaking off the lingering effects of the aneurysm the last one had given him (weak, more of a tickle, honestly) when a voice saying his name, stops him in his tracks.

Right. He was supposed to be incognito. He'd always been bad at that, had rarely seen the point.

When Kol turns there's a man standing a few paces away, mouth open and eyes wide. It only takes Kol a second to recognize him. Hard to forget the face that caused you to spend almost two centuries in a box, despite it being more mature, then the last time you'd seen it.

The boy had grown handsome. Kol idly wonders if Marcellus had ever learned to properly appreciate Shakespeare.

"You're supposed to be dead," Marcel tells him, as if that's something Kol doesn't already know.

"Didn't stick," Kol replies shortly, speeding over. Marcel doesn't flinch, but then he'd spent more time with The Originals than most. "Got out when The Other Side collapsed. Not rightly sure how, but I figure I was probably due for a bit of luck."

"That was years ago," Marcel says slowly. "Where have you _been_?"

"Here and there," Kol answers, not feeling like he owes Marcel any explanations. And it's not as though he's been doing anything of note, merely visiting some old haunts (funded by a quick trip back to the house in Mystic Falls – Nik really should learn to hide the safe better, and he was going to be right pissed about that Géricault Kol had liberated from one of the guest rooms, and sold for a tidy sum) and having and causing mild to moderate mayhem.

Nik deserved the aggravation, in Kol's opinion. From what he'd seen, when he'd peeked in on their lives, before his resurrection, his siblings had scarcely even missed him, had not even bothered to mourn him.

Marcel's still looking at Kol like he's seen a ghost, and really, alive for as long as he's been, shouldn't he be a little less shocked? Resurrections were practically routine, from what Kol had witnessed, these last few years.

But perhaps Marcel can be of some use.

"Where's Rebekah?" Kol asks, because he's not seen so much of a trace of her. Marcel shrugs, "I'm not sure. Somewhere in Europe, last I heard. She might have moved on. Maybe South America."

"Nik let her leave?"

"Years ago," Marcel confirms.

Incredibly hard for Kol to fathom. He'd only ever managed a couple of weeks on his own, before Nik had come after him, or sent a lackey to deliver threats, until Kol was convinced to rejoin the family. That he's allowed Rebekah, his favorite sibling, out of his reach for so long was another piece of the puzzle that didn't add up.

Kol was beginning to think he'd need reinforcements. He adds 'Find Bekah' to his mental list of tasks to complete.

"And Elijah?"

"Around."

Kol will have to pay a visit, to his eldest brother. He gets the address from Marcel, tells the other man to not breathe a word of Kol's not so deceased state, impresses himself with the creativity of his own threats.

It's been awhile since he's had the pleasure of striking fear in the heart of another vampire.

Good to know he's not lost his touch.

* * *

Two hours later Kol leaves Elijah's apartment, feeling like he's just wasted his time, not to mention the grand reveal he'd so been looking forward to. And while Kol might be immortal, such a pointless conversation grated. Elijah has always wanted Nik to be something that he wasn't, spurred by his own guilt. Elijah's has been trying, unsuccessfully, to manipulate Nik into a facsimile of who he'd been as a human, for centuries. So Kol's not surprised that Elijah's unwilling to consider that there may be something sinister behind Nik's drastic character change.

He rounds a corner, paying little attention, crashing into someone. They stumble, but stay on their feet, impressive, given the speed that Kol had been moving at.

Kol looks up, decides he might as well have a snack.

Sees Nik staring back at him.

Drat. Not a snack.

Kol grins, readies a quip, but Nik merely snarls, "Watch it," pushing past Kol, and entering Elijah's building.

Kol's left alone, on the sidewalk, staring after his brother.

His brother, who hadn't even recognized him.

Forget rotten. Something was putrid and festering and _wrong_ with Nik.

He's tempted to leave. Why should Kol have to fix things, when Nik's inability to _listen_ had been the entire reason Kol had ended up dead in the first place?

He should leave Nik to his fate.

But Kol knows he won't. Curses himself for it. Promises himself that he will _never_ let Nik forget that he was the damsel in distress, that Kol had needed to play knight in shining armour. Not for another thousand years.

Kol turns, heads to the nearest bar, for that snack he'd been craving, because it was difficult, to plot successfully on an empty stomach.

Once sated, Kol compels himself a very nice car, hopes he remembers the brief lesson in driving Elijah had reluctantly administered, once Kol had been undaggered.

And if not, it's not like a crash will kill him, will it?

He manages well enough and is soon on the highway, headed north. Kol's decided to go back to Virginia, to the last place he knows Nik was himself.

Because he still needs a witch, and the least the Bennett girl could do is help him, after she's helped kill him, was it not? And Kol seems to remember that the pretty blonde Nik had drawn incessantly for months had warmed to Nik, before he'd left town. Perhaps she'll be willing to help out? She'd been the helpful type, Kol remembers. Always game for her friends' hare brained schemes.

Maybe she'd come to consider Nik a friend, or maybe Kol could appeal to her better nature. Because really, if something was powerful enough to change his brother so drastically, that something wasn't good news, and needed to be dealt with.

It's only the beginning of a plan, but it's better than nothing. Kol was new to this hero business, not sure that he was cut out for it. But _someone_ had to do something. And, much like the Silas debacle, it looked as if Kol was the only one whose brain was currently functioning.

It was ever so tedious, always being right.


	16. klarolineauweek1 AU: CrossoversFusions

**Notes: **for klarolineauweek Day Four! The theme was Fusions/Crossovers and I went with drabbles inspired by Futurama and The Walking Dead (comes back tonight! I'm so excited!). Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! I'm written something like 40K words for this week but don't worry, the plan is to focus back on the multichapters when it's done!

**You're Better Than Normal**

**(**_**Futurama**_** inspired, title taken from a quote from the show. Rated T.)**

Caroline groaned as she woke, with the mother of all cricks in her neck. Shouldn't being a vampire mean she was immune to the effects of uncomfy sleeping positions?

Twisting her neck, trying to loosen the knots, she squinted into the darkness around her. Caroline blinked, confused at what she was seeing. Because this _definitely_ wasn't one of the spare rooms at the Lockwood mansion, where Matt had graciously agreed to let her and Bonnie stay for a few days. This wasn't even a house.

This was a cave. And in Caroline's experience waking up in a cave was _never_ a good thing. Caroline forced herself into a sitting positon, looking around wildly for threats. She winced because that had _hurt_, every bone, muscle and ligament in her body screaming at her that moving so quickly was a _very bad idea_.

It's then she notices that she's filthy. Sand, soil, pebbles and bugs falling from her, her skin and hair coated with a thick layer of muck. Caroline's just about to start freaking the fuck out (because bugs! Seriously, gross) when she notices the lump on the ground next to her, recognizes the hair, the line of the nose, despite the fact that Bonnie's in the exact same, debris covered, state that Caroline is.

Caroline scoots over, gritting her teeth and ignoring her own discomfort. She frantically brushes away the dirt, her fingers flying to Bonnie's neck, feeling for a pulse.

It's the longest few seconds of her life but then she feels something, against her fingers. Caroline lets out a gasp of relief, at the strong, steady throbbing, that meant Bonnie was alive. Maybe not well, but a little vampire blood could fix that right up, as soon as Bonnie was conscious.

She shakes Bonnie, gently, and then a little less gently, when she gets no reaction. Caroline calls her friend's name, letting out a cough, her voice creaky and strained sounding. Would it have killed whichever bad guy of the week that had locked them in here to provide a bottle of water, or something?

Bonnie's unresponsive, for several excruciating minutes and Caroline focuses on the sound of her heart, to keep from panicking. Finally, Bonnie groans, her hands twitching weakly. "Bon," Caroline urges, "Bon, wake up. Something really _weird_ is happening here and I _need_ you. Probably your badass witchery too."

Something garbled comes out of Bonnie's mouth, but Caroline thinks it's her name, and she's unable to resist flinging herself onto Bonnie, gathering her friend up in a hug.

Bonnie's hand pats clumsily at Caroline's back, and Caroline pulls away, looking into Bonnie's bewildered green eyes and speaking firmly, "Listen, I know you hate drinking blood but I need you on your feet. So take a little. Please? For me."

Bonnie looks reluctant, but cringes, when she attempts to push herself up. "Ugh. I feel like I'm 96 years old."

Caroline bites into her wrist, wordlessly offering it to Bonnie. The witch gags, but manages a few sips, and after it settles, and Bonnie's able to move more easily, Caroline's helps Bonnie to her feet.

"Alright, so," Caroline says and begins to pace, as much to focus her mind, as to work out the remaining soreness in her body. "What do we know?"

"The last thing I remember," Bonnie says, her forehead furrowing in thought, 'is walking into the Salvatore Boarding House."

"Yes!" Caroline exclaims, glad that they're at least somewhat on the same page. "We had souvenirs. We were going to brag to Elena all about how awesome 'Caroline and Bonnie Do Europe' was going. Convince her to come with us, for a couple of weeks."

"And now we're trapped in a cave," Bonnie finishes, and their momentary high spirits plummet.

"Yeah. Really not a fan of that," Caroline complains. "Did we piss anyone off? I don't think so."

"No," Bonnie denies immediately, "_We_ didn't. Maybe Damon did something stupid?"

It really was the likeliest conclusion, and further proof of something Caroline had begun to realize. She and Bonnie would be better off staying far, far away from Mystic Falls.

But Caroline would think about that (and exactly how she'd exact some payback, should Damon actually be to blame for their predicament) once she and Bonnie were out of here.

And after she'd indulged in the longest shower in the history of the world.

Squaring her shoulders, Caroline walks over to the closest wall, pushing, seeing if she can feel for a weakness, or an opening. Bonnie joins her, but only presses her fingertips to the stone, head tipped to the side in contemplation. "It's spelled. Something strong. I can feel it."

Of course it was. Because nothing could ever be simple. "Can you take it down?" Caroline asks.

Instead of answering, Bonnie walks to the center of the cave, raising her arms. She does her thing, words Caroline doesn't understand spilling from her lips, her eyes focused on a far off point. Caroline feels a jolt, and then hears a faint creaking. She vamp speeds over to where Bonnie is, shoving the slighter girl underneath her, as chunks of the cave ceiling rain down. Caroline brings her shirt up to cover her mouth, and it feels like a very long time, until the dust settles.

Cautiously, she eases off of Bonnie, looking around. "Okay, note to self, check structural integrity of cave before applying magic."

Bonnie laughs weakly, staying on the ground, "It was some kind of stasis spell, I think. And Caroline?"

Caroline turns to Bonnie sharply, hearing the waver, the tinge of fear, in her tone, "What is it?"

"It felt…" Bonnie trails off, groping for a word, "old. Really old. Old like I've only felt once or twice, when we were travelling."

Caroline absorbs that, resists the urge to let her mind wander over what that could possibly mean. Because that path led to severe anxiety, and that really wouldn't be helpful, just now.

She forces herself to adopt a light tone, forces herself to remain optimistic, "Well, we'll figure that out, once we get out of here."

"If we get out of here," Bonnie mutters, looking down.

And nope, that kind of bleakness was not allowed, on Caroline's watch. Bonnie's still sitting, looking strained, like the spell had taken a lot out of her. Caroline knows better, than to insist she take more blood. Plus, Caroline has a sinking feeling that she's up, that she's going to need to claw their way out of here, and that she's going to need every ounce of vampire strength she has to do it.

She rolls her shoulders, walking determinedly back to the cave wall. She punches, testing the stone, is surprised that it gives, a tiny crack appearing. It's more than she'd expected, and for Caroline, it privately confirms what Bonnie had said.

She's stronger, than she had been, considerably more so than a baby vampire should _be_. Caroline takes a deep breath, once again refusing to consider what that meant, focusing on the fact that it would give her and Bonnie a better shot, of getting out of here alive. And in a timely fashion, because Bonnie will need water, food, before too long.

Caroline balls her fist, wrapping her thumb securely around her knuckles, hits the wall again.

She'll do whatever it takes, will tear this cave to pieces, with her bare hands, if she needs to. But she'll save a little something. Because when she gets out she's going to break Damon's face. Repeatedly.

* * *

Hours later, and Caroline had no idea how many, she's still at it, her knuckles bleeding, her fingernails gone. She heals, than tears her skin open again, no longer noticing the sting. Bonnie's given up urging her to take a break, and every time Caroline looks back to check on her friend, she only becomes more determined. Because Bonnie doesn't look so good, her lips are dry and she's obviously struggling to keep her eyes open.

Caroline's throat is clogged, with tears of frustration that she refuses to let fall. She's making progress, but not nearly enough, the solid walls of the cave proving stubborn. She rests her forehead against the cool stone. Just for a moment.

And then she feels something, a faint tremor, _not_ caused by her.

She leaps back, posture tense, ready to flash to Bonnie, should the cave decide to collapse.

But it doesn't, so Caroline leans forward, pressing her ear to the wall, focusing her senses, heightened beyond what she's accustomed to. She thinks she makes out voices, raised and male, though Caroline can't distinguish words.

"What is it?" Bonnie mumbles, her voice slurred with exhaustion.

God, Caroline hopes she's not going crazy. "I think someone's there. I think they're trying to get us out."

"Mmm. Damon might have just earned himself one less aneurysm."

"You're too nice, Bon."

Bonnie doesn't reply, and Caroline goes back to work. She's elated, to have help, but that doesn't mean she's going to slack. She wants _out_ of this fucking cave.

The noises from outside grow louder, the cracks in the wall in front of her widening, and eventually it starts to crumble. A small hole appears, a hand after that, and Caroline laughs in relief, as the stone falls at her feet.

She expects Stefan, maybe Elena, to be the head that pops through the gap that's been made. Hell, she'd expect Enzo, or Tyler or Alaric or Matt, before she'd expect the blonde hair and smirking mouth that looks through at her.

Rebekah Mikaelson surveys Caroline, dusty and disheveled, but as cool and condescending as ever, "Hello, Caroline. You look disgusting."

There's a scuffle, before Caroline can reply, Rebekah complaining about being manhandled, and then Klaus is there.

Caroline sucks in a breath, and her fists clench at her sides. It's stupid, to be floored, she knows, because where there's Rebekah, it's logical that Klaus will follow. Logic hadn't prepared her for the sight of him, for the strain on his dirt-smudged face.

He stills, when he catches sight of her, appears to stop breathing, his blue eyes filled with something like wonder. She'd always been afraid to analyze, the way Klaus looked at her, afraid to really accept that what he'd seemed to feel for her was real. But now, with him staring at her, raw and desperately tender, she wonders how she'll ever look away.

She doesn't have to, as it turns out. It's him, who tears his gaze away, his eyes closing as he swallows harshly. When they open they're blazing, determination and a hint of anger, though somehow Caroline knows that it's not directed at her.

"You might want to step back, love," he tells her, clipped and forceful, "We'll have you out in a moment."

Caroline wonders who _we_ is, because Klaus and Rebekah were the last people she'd have expected to make up her rescue squad. She hadn't spoken to him, since his last visit to Mystic Falls, where he'd promised to walk away, and let her live her human dreams.

She'd sent him a postcard, before heading off to Europe with Bonnie, had been gone before he could have attempted to reply.

They work quickly, the stone no match for their strength, and as more of it falls Caroline sees that they're not alone. Elijah's there, Kol too.

She has no idea what this means.

Caroline retreats, letting The Originals demolish her prison, helps Bonnie to her feet. Bonnie stumbles, and Caroline's just about to lift her, when a light touch on her elbow stops her. It's Elijah, Klaus just behind, "I'll carry Miss Bennett," he offers, "if she'll allow it?"

Caroline exchanges a glance with Bonnie, seeking her friend's permission. Bonnie nods, once, and Elijah scoops her up easily, making his way through the debris with a grace Caroline envies.

Her attention is drawn away, when Klaus' hand cups her cheek, like she's fragile or he's afraid she's not real, "I've sent Kol to procure some blood for you, but I'd like for you to take some of mine, Caroline. You're looking a touch grey, and I don't like it."

He bites into his wrist, and the scent of him, so familiar, floods her senses. Her face changes, fangs dropping, and she's biting down before she can think to turn his offer down. She moans and drinks deep, closing her eyes to better savor the taste of him. He presses himself along her spine, running a hand down her matted hair, making soft wordless noises, both soothing and encouraging.

She has no concept of how much blood she's taking, and he makes no attempt to stop her, and when Caroline finally brings herself to pull back her injuries have healed, the lingering achiness in her body completely abated. She feels fine, physically speaking. Better than that.

Which only makes her conscious of the grime coating her entire body. She disentangles herself, an apology for getting him dirty on her lips. But then she notes his clothing, reaches out to pinch the fabric between her fingers, the texture of it unlike anything she recalls him wearing.

She takes a deep breath, looks up into Klaus eyes, which are watching her carefully, filled with sympathy, "It's not 2017, is it?"

"No," Klaus confirms what Caroline already knows, his voice quiet, "it's not."

* * *

It's a little bit of a blur, what happens next. Caroline thinks she's in shock. They're in what used to be Mystic Falls, Klaus tells her, though it's much changed, he warns. It smells different, when she steps out of the cave. Acrid and metallic. No longer like pine and earth, and the faint tinge of rain that always lingered.

She's escorted to a vehicle, the lines of it strange. Caroline asks if Bonnie's alright, is assured that she'd been given water, and had fallen asleep immediately. Caroline climbs into the backseat, closes her eyes once she's inside. The car moves without a whisper of sound. The interior remains quiet as well, only marred by Bonnie's slow, even, breathing, the faint rustle of Rebekah or Klaus, shifting in the front.

When they come to a stop, in an underground parking garage, Caroline wordlessly climbs out when Klaus opens her door. Bonnie's still sound asleep, and Rebekah carries her. Caroline focuses on her breathing, looks at her feet. Refuses to register the strangeness all around her. Everything feels foreign. She recognizes shapes, but the details feel wrong, and she knows if she thinks about it too much she might just be the first vampire in history to get an attack of the vapors.

So Caroline will take things one step at a time. First, a shower. Then she needs to find out what the hell happened, to get her and Bonnie trapped in that cave. Then maybe she'll muster up the courage to ask what year it actually is.

She's surprised, when Klaus leaves them at the door to a room, exchanging a significant look with Rebekah. She trails after the other blonde, feeling like a lost puppy, as Bonnie's tucked into a bed, with more care than Caroline would have thought possible from Rebekah.

Rebekah than turns her attention to Caroline, ushering her into a bathroom, all gleaming chrome and flashing lights. She's matter of fact, as she explains the buttons that apparently make the shower work, tells Caroline to call, if she needs help, without even a trace of mockery.

"Why are you being so nice?" Caroline can't help but ask, just before Rebekah leaves.

Rebekah leans against the doorframe, "I know what it's like, Caroline. To wake up in a world that's completely unfamiliar, with no concept of the passage of time. Adjusting is difficult. I'm sure I'll find you completely insufferable again, after you've had some time to adjust, don't you worry your pretty blonde head."

Caroline snorts at that, glad that some things _haven't_ changed. "Thanks, Rebekah," she says, and her gratitude is genuine.

Rebekah merely wrinkles her nose, before demanding, "Shower. I meant it when I said you were disgusting, you know. I'll scrounge up something for you to wear," before she leaves Caroline to it.

* * *

It's sometime later, her skin scrubbed until it's pink and clean, that Caroline taps on the door to the room Rebekah had told her Klaus occupied.

She shifts uneasily, tugging at the clothes she wears, so much lighter and smoother than what she's used to. Her hair's wet, hanging around her shoulders, and she'd forgone the slippers Rebekah had provided.

Caroline's mind is whirling, the questions multiplying, and her anxiety building. Rebekah's softness is unfamiliar, and while she appreciates the sentiment behind it Caroline thinks it would be soothing, it the other woman would act a bit more abrasive.

Would help her feel at home.

What Caroline needs is a little normality, and she thinks Klaus is the only person who can provide it.

He's clearly showered too, when he opens the door. He's only wearing pants, his hair curling damply around his ears. And maybe it's weakness but Caroline steps into him, burying her face in his shoulder. The scent of his skin is the same, his hands comforting as they smooth down her back. Caroline wraps her arms around him, holding him so tightly that it's only the fact that she _can't_ crush him that saves him from a bruised rib or two.

And like before, when he'd offered her his blood, he lets her take what she needs, without comment or complaint, only letting her go when she moves away.

Caroline brings her hands to her face, brushes away a few tears that have escaped. "Okay. Tell me what happened."

Klaus leads her over to a sitting area, lets her curl up against him on the plush lounge. If he thinks it strange that she's so eager to touch him, he doesn't mention it, and Caroline's grateful. It's grounding, and she needs it, and she refuses to feel bad for that, when it's helping her hold herself together. "I can tell you what I've pieced together," he begins, speaking quietly, "but I only learned things after the fact. Your friend Enzo will be here tomorrow. He might be a bit more helpful."

"You know Enzo?" Caroline asks, puzzled. And she tries to picture it, but finds she can't.

"Mmm. Wasn't overly fond of him, in the beginning, I'll admit." Klaus hand finds its way into her hair, and she leans into the touch.

Caroline grins at his words, "Me neither. But he grows on you." Something that Klaus and Enzo had in common, at least from Caroline's perspective.

"He came to me for help. To find you."

"When was this?"

"2019," Klaus tells her. "He'd gone off, left Mystic Falls when it became clear that Damon's obsession with waking the fair Elena wouldn't be swayed. When he returned, he was shocked to find her awake. And a vampire, once more. He asked after you. But neither Damon or The Ripper or even The Doppelganger had any recollection of ever knowing you. He probed further, and your other friend's memories had also been tampered with. So he tracked me down."

"And you remembered me," Caroline assumes, floored by the information. That someone had attempted to erase her entire existence was going to take some time to process.

"I did," Klaus confirms, "of course I did. So I looked for you. Did some digging. Enzo told me about how you lot tangled with the Gemini Coven. That was my first clue. It seems that there was a failsafe, and you and the Bennett witch paid the consequences, for The Salvatore's breaking the curse Elena was under."

"And they just left us there?" Caroline exclaims, her pitch rising sharply, as outrage filled her.

"They believed that attempts to rescue you would result in dire consequences for Elena, or so I gleaned, when I spoke to the witch who performed the spells to seal you into the cave, and alter their memories."

"Of course they did," Caroline muttered, bitter and unsurprised. Elena's life had always been placed above hers and Bonnie's. She'd expect nothing less from Damon, though it hurt a little that Stefan had left her to rot. "But why erase us?"

"Plausible deniability, love. I came looking for you, as Damon must have expected."

Klaus looks uncomfortable, for a moment, and Caroline makes a note to press him for further information about that particular piece of info, at a later date. "So they're still alive?"

"For now. Enzo's supervising their collection, along with a couple of my associates. Whether they stay that way, and how painful their deaths will be, is your decision, of course." He does a good job, of masking the edge of anger in his voice, but Caroline feels it, in the slightly increased pressure of his hands on her back.

Caroline nods, too tired to contemplate the implications of that. She'll need to talk to Bonnie, and she'll need to think, long and hard. There's so many more questions that she needs to ask. And she'll have to see how she feels, upon seeing Elena and Stefan.

Eventually, Caroline's going to have to bring herself to ask exactly how much time had passed, how many years and decades and centuries have been stolen from her. She'll need to mourn her life, the people she'll never see again. But she has Bonnie, and she has Klaus, and she even has Rebekah. So for now, Caroline lets herself relax into the lines of Klaus' body, lets herself find comfort in the warmth of his skin, the strength of his arms.

Caroline lets herself drift to sleep, knowing that Klaus will be there tomorrow, and that he'll help her make her way in a brand new world.

**Of Two Kinds**

**(Zombie!Apocalypse Klaroline, inspired by The Walking Dead. A Part One (of Two, I think). Title taken from a Gandhi quote about power. Rated T.)**

"Son of a bitch!" Caroline yelled, in shock and pain, as a pair of teeth sunk into her shoulder. The offender's head was quickly crushed into the concrete wall, a swing of a bat not so neatly dispatching the two things she'd been struggling with, after fumbling her knife. But she'd already taken down more than a dozen of the walkers that'd cluttered up the perimeter overnight, and the handle was slick with blood and other assorted grossness.

Still. It was stupid of her, especially as she'd gone out alone.

Caroline shook her arm out, waiting for the sting of the bite to fade. It would be sore, until she sucked down an extra blood ration, while whatever sickness the dead carried struggled to take root in her body.

But it would fail. Because a nifty perk of being a vampire? Immunity to whatever virus that caused humans to reanimate into mindless drones with a taste for flesh. The strength and speed that came with their nature was also more than a little handy. Vampires had a certain aptitude for killing the walking corpses that tended to mass near settlements. The Originals and Marcel liked to get fancy, pulling out swords and axes, when there was a herd to deal with, diving in and hacking, all deadly grace and accuracy. The Salvatore's and Enzo (plus Caroline, who'd been taught to shoot by her mother) preferred rifles, taking headshots from a distance. The other baby vamps, Gia and Josh, had never handled weapons, but could hold their own with blunt objects and brute force.

Caroline yelped as her arm was grabbed, and the bite examined. She shot Kol a dirty look over her shoulder, "You're late."

"And you're impatient, darling. It was five minutes. And Nik's going to be right pissed when we get back. I'll make myself scarce. Bat your eyes a bit on my behalf, would you?"

Caroline shook him off, and he let her. She bent to retrieve her fallen knife, "I switched shifts with Gia and sacrificed a perfectly preserved Hershey bar so I could avoid your brother. So no, I won't flirt with him to save your ass."

"But it's a fine arse, Caroline. I know you've looked."

She made a noise of disgust, stalking away, only pausing to drive her blade through the skull of a walker that stumbled around the corner. She heard Kol behind her, his amused chuckle further raising her hackles, "Uh-oh, trouble in paradise? Tell your good buddy Kol all about it."

"So you can immediately go to your gossip bros with the details?" Caroline shot him an incredulous look, "How about no?"

Kol, of course, has no shame, "We have a pool. It would be unsporting if I didn't share my knowledge."

There was a clump of putrid corpses, clawing at the walls, a few meters ahead, and Caroline was grateful for the distraction (which really said a lot, about her current mental state. Because they were _super_ gross), "Just shut up and kill things, okay?"

"Be still my heart, Caroline," Kol drawls, bowing mockingly, "for there are no lovelier words in the English language."

Kol doesn't give her the time to reply before he'd races ahead (the dirty cheater!), and Caroline shouts a protest, and several of the more creative curse words he'd taught her for good measure, speeding to try to catch up.

* * *

Almost an hour later, having made a circuit around the walls, and a quick run through the forest to check the traps, Caroline and Kol trudged back to the gate, waving at the sentry on duty (Liv, if Caroline remembered correctly) and waiting for the creak of shifting metal that signaled the doors were opening. A small group filed out, and Caroline nodded at Stefan (he was on clean and burn duty – having lost a high stakes game of poker the week before) as she slipped inside.

The key to surviving (and thriving!) in the apocalypse? Organization and leadership skills, in Caroline opinion. She'd bet good money (if money wasn't totally useless) that her corner of Virginia was the safest place on earth right about now, and she'd be lying if she didn't get a whole lot of satisfaction, from that knowledge. There were other little pockets of humans that they kept a close eye on, mindful of the need for allies, and the threat of enemies, but none so well provided for as her own community.

Threats and allies, had actually been the hot topic, at a meeting they'd had the night before last and was the reason she was currently avoiding Klaus. Even though describing anyone as a 'threat' might have been being kind of generous.

The few groups that Caroline was thinking of, roving men who thought themselves invincible, convinced they were now at the very top of the food chain, had no idea that they were _far_ from the most dangerous creatures left in the world. Unwashed and usually disgusting, they took the collapse of society as a free pass to act out all their sickest, most depraved fantasies, confident that consequences would not find them.

But they were very, very wrong.

Occasionally one of the supply teams caught wind of such a group. And then that group didn't survive very much longer.

They had a system, honed to perfection. A trap was set (a pretty girl put in their path, alone, and not as defenseless as she seemed) and sprung. Caroline volunteered to be bait often, usually had to fight Rebekah for the honor. She liked it, letting her monster out. So much of her time was spent playing fearless (but non-threatening!) leader these days. And out there she didn't have to pretend to be something she wasn't. She liked the power, the reminder of how far she's come. She liked breaking legs, and compelling those men to be silent. No one had saved the girl Caroline had been, and she didn't need saving now.

But other girls, somewhere out there, probably did.

What happened after was more merciful, than anything those men would have done, had Caroline really been a seventeen year old girl, all by her lonesome. A blood donation (because resources couldn't be wasted, the world being what it was) and a snapped neck, followed by a knife to the temple, to prevent them from rising again, was more than they deserved.

Allies were trickier. And more controversial. Maintaining balance in the community was important. Humans were needy – food, clean water, medicine – all necessary. And their blood was required to prevent the dozen vampires who now called the Mystic Falls home, who did the bulk of the protecting and foraging, from desiccating, so the humans needed to be kept healthy.

It was a symbiotic relationship, with a ridiculous amount of variables, and managing it made Caroline remember how much headaches had sucked. But she wouldn't change it, because she's proud of what she's helped build.

Mystic Falls had been nearly a ghost town, sixteen days after people had first gotten nervous, and headed to Richmond, seeking answers and safety. Several thousand residents had dwindled to less than a hundred. The vampires who called Mystic Falls home, their friends and family, various townspeople who'd tried to leave, after things had gone from 'weird and concerning' to 'hell in a handbasket,' only to find the roads too congested and dangerous, were all that remained.

And then The Originals had shown up, a couple of strangers in tow.

They'd strolled into The Grill, like they owned the place, as was their habit, Klaus in the lead. The people who'd remained in town had taken to gathering at the bar to gawk at the news (and drink heavily). And then when the news had stopped, televisions nothing but static, no phones or internet accessible, they'd gathered just for the comfort of not being alone. Hearing the bell above the door had been a shock, and Caroline had turned, tense and ready to fight. And in had walked Klaus, exactly as she'd last seen him, when she'd sped off after their afternoon in the woods behind The Salvatore Boarding House.

Her first reaction, one she'd carefully hidden, had been relief. Just a tiny bit.

Because Klaus had been every bit as self-assured and unflappable as she'd remembered. And why wouldn't her be? Caroline knew he was nearly indestructible, smart, not to mention lethal. Not someone who's bad side she wanted to be on, but he wasn't the worst person to have watching your back, in uncertain times.

She'd wanted to smile, but had fought the urge. Her relief had been battered by doubts, almost immediately. Could she trust him? Would it be smart to, when almost two years had passed, with no contact, and surely whatever feelings he'd had for her must have waned? Caroline had pushed the part of her that felt safer, knowing he was near, aside. She'd snarked something about being unsurprised that Klaus lacked respect for promises. He'd smiled, all genuine pleasure at the sight of her, told her it was good to see her too, and then ordered a drink.

And then Damon and Stefan and Enzo had wandered over, wary and suspicious.

There'd been the usual subtle and not to subtle threats, macho posturing, penis measuring, bullshit. Caroline had quickly lost patience with it, and burst into the conversation, demanding to know what Klaus and his siblings were even doing in Mystic Falls?

Klaus, seated on a stool, had been nonchalant, 'We've survived plagues before, love," he'd said. "The cities fall first, and it's best to get out before they do."

The entire room and fallen silent, at the ominous proclamation, reality creeping in. And then Elijah had cleared his throat, and begun to speak of what they'd seen, fought through, to get to Mystic Falls.

And from there, plans had been made, a tentative peace between former enemies decided on. Caroline had maintained her stubborn silence, for all of six minutes, before Damon had started in, his plans half-assed and characteristically full of holes, and she'd been unable to resist interjecting. He'd fought her, but Rebekah, of all people, had stuck up for Caroline, and Damon had grudgingly kept his mouth shut from then on (and cooled it on the blonde jokes, after Rebekah had threatened to make him eat his spleen, if she had to hear another).

The first order of business? They had needed more humans, especially considering that several of the humans available were friends and family of the assembled vampires, so draining them wasn't exactly an option.

They'd done some recruiting. Offered food, and shelter, in exchange for blood. Humans were allowed to leave freely (and _that_ had been a heated debate…) after they'd been compelled to forget the existence of vampires, naturally. But most were more than fine with staying.

Their safety guaranteed, in exchange for a little blood? It was the best deal any human was going to get, with the world being what it was.

And then there was the fact that most of the vampires predated modern conveniences, and were chock full of helpful tips and tricks. Rebekah had even been a nurse, once upon a time. Kol had all sorts of know how about magical herbs and remedies stored away. They knew how to build things, without power tools. The sight of Elijah Mikaelson doing manual labour, in casual clothing, was surely an indicator that the world had changed drastically, Caroline had privately thought.

The Originals had taken the lead in fortifying Mystic Falls, rigged it so they could pipe in water. They knew how to hunt, and how to get crops growing.

A quick tour was usually all the convincing a human needed, before they agreed to stay in town, and were assigned a place to stay.

They'd had a couple rough patches, with people they'd let in. But Caroline wasn't about to let that get her down. She thought it was time to expand, had brought the idea up at the last meeting. Klaus, ever paranoid, had disagreed.

They'd had a roaring fight, probably audible to most of the town's residents, and she'd stormed off and had been ducking him ever since.

She's kind of surprised she'd been successful for so long, if she was being honest.

When Caroline throws open the door to the house she shares with her Mom and Bonnie, she's irritated, and desperate for a shower. It's not the house she grew up in, and it's still weird to walk in without knocking. This house had belonged to The Coopers. Mr. Cooper had taught Spanish at Mystic Falls High. His wife made a little extra money selling jewellery on Etsy. They, their four year old son, and their dog, had left Mystic Falls when the first wave had decided to head to a city for help.

Caroline had taken down their family photos, stored them carefully. She hopes they'd made it somewhere safe.

She quickly realizes she's not alone, but she's not scared. And she knows exactly who's waiting for her, even before he says, "Hello, Caroline."


	17. klarolineauweek1 AU: AH Regular Joes

**Notes: **I only did one piece for AU: All Human (Regular Joes) but it is LONG. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing these things! The rest of my contributions for this week will trickle out over the next few days.

**Come On, Take Them Off**

**(Prompt from thetourguidebarbie: "We had an incredibly unstable love/hate relationship in college that involved a lot of excellent sex and now you're my coworker and this is incredibly awkward and then oops we fucked in your office" AU. Title from "I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked" by Ida Marie. Smut.)**

**Present:**

"…and the rest of your team will trickle in shortly, and they'll help bring you up to speed. Any questions?"

Caroline opened her mouth, because _of course_ she had questions, but her new boss' gaze flitted past her, towards the door, and the woman smiled slightly, "Ah, there's one of them now. You went to the same college, actually, so perhaps you know…"

"…Klaus Mikaelson," Caroline finished the sentence, trying for neutrality but failing miserably, if the smirk Klaus shot her as he approached was anything to go by. It had been more than five years since the last time she'd seen him, and she hadn't thought she ever would again. Caroline had been sure that she was over whatever weird thing they'd had. She'd chalked it up to the stress of college, and her hormones, making her think she'd felt things for him that she couldn't have.

But the way her mouth went dry, the way her heart sped up, told her that the confusing ball of emotions Klaus had always inspired in Caroline was rearing its ugly head.

Damn it.

Luckily Meredith Fell, who'd hired her, and had been giving Caroline the rundown of her new responsibilities, didn't know her well enough to sense that anything was off. She merely smiled, and patted Klaus on the arm, "Excellent! Hopefully, you two knowing one another will ease the transition. We're expecting great things from you, Caroline."

Caroline smiled, and was about to say thank you, but Klaus interrupted her, making a low, amused noise. "Careful, Meredith. Caroline's a bit of an overachiever. The first time we worked together was on a project where the rest of our group was less than helpful. She's a bit scary, at 3AM, high on caffeine with a deadline to meet. I rather feared for my life, at moments."

It's a fight, not to let the smile drop off of her face. Klaus' words seem innocent, even if the look in his eyes is heated and teasing.

Because they'd spent many late nights together. Studying, arguing, racing against the clock. How those nights had ended had evolved, with time. From contentious to cordial to something entirely different. But _definitely_ less then innocent.

**April 2008:**

Caroline held her breath, as the last slide of their PowerPoint presentation faded away and Klaus' voice, uttering their closing remarks, with it. Klaus turned to her, his eyebrows raised expectantly, and Caroline let out a relieved sigh, "I think…"

"We're actually done?" Klaus interrupted, throwing himself down on the couch, and rubbing a hand through his hair, "Agreed. Finally. And I think it turned out quite well."

"Oh, totally. The A is in the bag as long as…"

"Useless and uselesser don't fuck up their parts. I know."

Caroline groaned and set her laptop on his coffee table, "Ugh. Group projects are the worst. I am going to eviscerate those idiots on my peer review."

Klaus laughed softly, turning to look at her, and Caroline was suddenly very aware that they were alone, in the privacy of his off campus apartment, and sitting very close together, her thigh resting lightly against his. She shook off that thought, because he was a dick, and she refused to be attracted to him, even if he _was_ unfairly hot. And maybe he'd turned out to be kind of a lifesaver on this project, being the only other member of their assigned group with a functioning brain, proving that he wasn't as heinous as she'd assumed.

Caroline cleared her throat, shifting away, "Seriously, you think I'm joking. But if either one of them sees me coming after the presentation they had better run in the opposite direction. Don't tell my mom but I would happily murder them both."

Klaus smirked, the one that usually preceded him saying something that made her want to hit him, "So you anticipate me meeting your mother, then? And here I thought you didn't much like me."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "I don't like you. But, and don't let this inflate your already supersized ego, you did good work on this project and I appreciate it. "

He blinked at her, and she took a tiny amount of satisfaction in the surprise that danced across his face. He shuttered it quickly, placing a hand over his heart mockingly, "Never thought I'd eke out a compliment from you, sweetheart. I shall treasure it always."

"And you wonder why I don't like you," Caroline grumbled, elbowing him.

"Ouch," Klaus complained rubbing his side, "get a little rough in the wee hours, do you? I'll remember that."

Ordinarily, that would cause her to bristle and stomp off, but Caroline was just too tired. "Oh goody, lame sexual innuendos. Yet another reason why you're annoying. Just in case you were wondering." She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes, trying to muster enough energy to get up. Klaus had cut her off from the coffee pot a couple of hours ago, claiming that she was getting a little manic and he was concerned, and so she's mostly been fueled by her stubborn determination to get the project done. But now she was flagging fast, and she still had to drive home before she could crash for a couple of hours.

"Perhaps I just think you're particularly beautiful when you blush."

Caroline scoffed at that, "Please. I don't blush. There are no shy virgins in this room, Klaus. I can guarantee you that nothing you've said to me is dirtier than the thoughts I've had about you."

Oh shit.

Caroline froze as she registered what she'd just said. Had she really just confessed to Klaus that he starred in her sexual fantasies? And could she pretend she hadn't? Maybe blame the fact that she'd been up for nearly 24 hours now?

The silence in the room told her that was unfortunately not an option. Reluctantly, Caroline cracked her eyes open, and looked over at Klaus who'd evidently been waiting for her attention, because he smiled, slow and pleased, before murmuring, "Tell me more, love."

Yeah, that wasn't happening. Even if dirty talk _might_ have featured pretty heavily in said fantasies. It totally wasn't her fault that the accent did _things_ to her, okay?

Caroline edged away from him, striving to seem dismissive, "Don't read anything in to it, Klaus. You're hot, I'm hot and I haven't had a steady boyfriend since high school. And newsflash, finding a guy who's willing to keep things casual, but still put in the work to get you off is kind of like finding a unicorn. It's usually easier to do it myself. I spent almost half of a paycheck on a really good vibrator but a decent orgasm still requires a little imagination."

Caroline wanted to smack herself as she spoke, knowing she was just digging the hole deeper, but the words just kept coming.

"I would," Klaus said simply, after she'd managed to stop rambling.

"You would what?" Caroline asks, a little confused.

"Work to get you off."

He looks so earnest, his eyes dropping to her lips as he inches just the tiniest bit closer to her. Caroline forces a laugh, "Right. Sure. Very funny Klaus."

"I assure you I am entirely serious, Caroline."

"You want to sleep with me?" She's not as skeptical as she sounds, because she's not entirely blind to the way he looks at her. But she'd seen him be effortlessly charming with other women so she'd always assumed that, had he any genuine interest in her, he'd have been a little smoother about it. And not challenged her opinion at every turn, in every class they'd shared, in the ten months since they'd first met.

"The sleeping part's optional, of course. Figuring out how to make you come wouldn't be. It would be a pleasure, I'm sure, to explore you, to find out what makes you moan for me."

Caroline swallows hard, looking away, and fighting not to squirm because the intense way he's looking at her is so much hotter than she'd been able to picture. "I'll keep that in mind," she stutters, standing from the couch. She stumbles, almost immediately, her legs stiff and exhaustion making her uncoordinated.

Klaus steadies her, his hands on her hips, and she's far too aware of the tips of his fingers pressing into her skin where her t-shirt had ridden up. Caroline tries to take a step away, but he follows her, standing so that he's nearly pressed against her in the narrow space between the couch and the coffee table, "I should go," Caroline says, avoiding his eyes, "I need to sleep."

"You can sleep here."

Um, presumptions, much?

"Whoa, buddy," Caroline begins sharply.

Klaus holds up his hands, putting some distance between them and sidestepping around the couch, "Just to sleep. You're tired and unsteady and I wouldn't feel right about you driving like this."

Caroline knows he's right, hears her mother's voice in her head ('Drowsy driving is impaired driving, Caroline! Be careful.'). "Fine," she agrees grudgingly, glancing around, "but please tell me this place has a guest room?"

"It does. But I'll take the bed in there and you can take mine. I use the second bedroom for… other things."

His vagueness gives Caroline pause, "The trophies you take from your victims?" she asks archly.

He lets out an amused noise, motioning for her to follow him down the hall, "Not a serial killer, love."

"Sex dungeon?"

He turns at that, hand on a door knob, eyes her up and down, "Why? Is that something out of those dirty fantasies you mentioned?"

She narrows her eyes at him, irked by his ability to turn things around on her so easily, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Oh, I would. But," he turns the knob, pushing the door open enough so that Caroline can see inside, "I'm afraid it's nothing so illicit. Just an art studio."

Caroline presses up onto her tiptoes, trying to see more, gets a glimpse of sketches tacked to a wall and stacks of canvases, before he's shutting the door again. "My room's next door. You can help yourself to something to sleep in from the closet, if you'd like."

She tries not to press for more information, because they're not friends, and it's not her concern, but this new tidbit about Klaus made her curious. Why was he studying business if he was serious enough about painting to dedicate a room to it? Was he any good? Caroline had never been very skilled at managing her need to know things, and this was going to bug her.

Fighting her need to begin peppering him with questions she offers him a polite smile, "Goodnight, Klaus. Thanks for letting me stay."

He presses a kiss to her cheek, soft and unexpected. Klaus says, "Sleep well, Caroline," before he disappears into the converted room, closing the door gently between them. She'd never admit it, but she stands there, staring at the door, for a long time.

**Present:**

She smiles at the right places, laughs at Meredith's comments, but Klaus can tell from the way she's standing, just a touch too straight, and from her slightly unnatural pitch, that Caroline's annoyed. Likely because Caroline Forbes did not like to be caught off guard, and he's quite certain that she'd not expected to run into him on her first day at her new job.

He'd known she'd be starting today, of course. It's the entire reason why he's here so early.

Eventually Meredith glances at the clock and realizes that she's got a conference call to lead and would Klaus mind terribly getting Caroline up to speed with the projects the team is currently working on?

Klaus assures her that he's happy to. Caroline's lips thin, but she quickly regains her pleasantly neutral expression, as Meredith takes her leave.

"This way, love." Klaus ushers her in the correct direction, placing his hand slightly too low on her back.

"No pet names in the workplace," she snips, walking slightly faster than he is, heels tapping loudly on the hardwood floors, until he's no longer touching her.

"And outside the workplace?" Klaus asks, genuinely curious.

"I don't see us spending much time together outside these walls, do you?"

He does. Has plans to ensure just such a thing, but telling her that at this juncture would be counterintuitive. So Klaus ignores her question, and opens the door to the main work room. There's a wall of windows opposite them, with a great view of the city, and the space is dominated by a conference table and ergonomic chairs. Klaus gestures to the doors that ring the room. "Offices. Doors mostly stay open, unless we have clients. Or we're tearing out hair out over something and want to do it in private. We like to hide our messes. Let me show you yours."

Conveniently located across from his.

"Your neighbor on the left is Katherine Pierce, the only other woman on the team. She'll probably like you more than she did the woman you're replacing, by virtue of the high heels." Klaus nods down at her feet, and if he lets his eyes linger on her calves a beat too long Caroline doesn't seem to notice.

"On the right, is Marcel Gerard. Good bloke, great with clients, likes just about everyone. He should be along shortly, he's usually the earliest in."

Although he suspects that Caroline will soon take that honor for her own. They ran on flex time, able to choose to start at any time between eight and eleven, so long as it was consistent. Klaus remembers Caroline preferring to get an early start to her day, though it's entirely possible things have changed, over the years.

"And Matt Donovan and Josh Rosza round out the team. Matt's on vacation, at the moment, so you won't meet him until next week. And Josh was the newest, only started with us four months ago."

Caroline nods, absorbing the information, and Klaus is just about to move the conversation in a slightly more personal direction, when he hears the distant tapping of another pair of high heels approaching. He bites back a groan, putting some distance between himself and Caroline.

Katherine has eagle eyes and no filter and Klaus would rather not deal with her commentary just now, though he wasn't dense enough to believe he'd be able to dodge it forever.

Katherine pauses at the entrance way to the room, making a show of giving Caroline a once over. Caroline straightens, and returns the look, not cowering as some people were wont to do. Katherine could be intimidating, and she relished it.

"You must be the new girl," Katherine drawls, walking closer.

"And you must be Katherine Pierce," Caroline shot back.

"Aw, is Klaus telling tales so soon? Don't believe a word that comes out of his pretty mouth. He doesn't like me."

Caroline makes a dismissive gesture, "Oh, I wouldn't. Trust me."

Katherine visibly perks up, intrigued, "Making a bad impression so early, Klaus? That's not like you. You usually wait until you either a.) get into their pants or b.) they tell you that no, you are not ever getting into their pants, before unleashing your true personality."

Caroline lets out a laugh, "Yeah. That sounds about right."

"So… you two know each other?" Katherine eyes him, a hint of knowing in her gaze, "Funny, Klaus neglected to mention that when we learned your name."

Caroline seems surprised, looking back and forth between the two of them, "You knew I was coming?"

"Of course. They're very 'Rah Rah Team' here. We watched all the candidates' video interviews and were invited to give our input. So even if there were another Caroline Forbes out there Klaus would have recognized your pretty blonde head. And maybe, mentioned that he knew you. Or _how_ he knew you."

It's laden with suggestion and Klaus is just about to tell Katherine to shove it (in a reasonably polite, workplace appropriate, way) but Caroline answers. "College. We got stuck together in a couple of group projects. Usually wanted to kill each other by the end."

Klaus resists the urge to refute that, unwilling to do so in front of their current audience. He and Caroline had fought their way through every project they'd collaborated on, sometimes viciously, true. Produced amazing work, every single time, making the disagreements worth it. But kill each other? Only if they'd been trying to commit murder via mind blowing sex.

"Sounds kinky," Katherine remarks, with an impish grin. "Come into my office, Caroline, and I'll give you the lowdown on how I manage these boys."

Caroline casts a wary glance his way, but Klaus stays silent. He has plenty of things he wants to say to her, but he knows there will be opportunities galore, in the coming days and weeks and months.

He'll bide his time.

**November 2008:**

"Will you just shut up for five seconds?!" Caroline whisper-shrieks. Her agitation is clear, and she's struggling to contain it, because they're in one of the private study rooms in the library. Klaus had locked the door, but sometimes the student workers got uppity and banged on it to lecture them about disturbing their fellow studiers. It had happened to them several times this semester, and Klaus half expected they'd be banned from using the rooms if it happened very many more.

Not that he'd mind. He had a perfectly nice flat, scarcely ten minutes from campus, that they could use. Caroline was the one that was reluctant to set foot in it.

Klaus took that as a positive, a sign that she still thought about his offer from last semester. He still had hope that she'd take him up on it, one day.

Caroline pushes her chair back from the table, and begins pacing. Klaus sighs, and swivels around to watch her.

She yanks the elastic out of her hair, tosses it onto the table, shaking her curls out, "I can't believe we're _still_ arguing about this."

"We wouldn't be," Klaus replies evenly, "if you just admitted that I'm right and you're wrong."

"You're not right."

Klaus closes his eyes, and attempts to count to ten, because he knows that they'll never get anywhere if at least one of them doesn't remain calm and rational. It's odd that it's him, playing that role, but perhaps he's maturing?

He's at six, when he's startled by a weight dropping onto him, pushing his chair back a few inches until it slams into the table. His eyes fly open and he's met with the shocking, though pleasing, sight of Caroline Forbes, straddling his lap. "Caroline, what…"

When she mutters, "Shut up," she does so against his lips. And then Caroline's kissing him, her hands running down the front of his shirt, her tongue rubbing teasingly against his as she presses into him.

Klaus hands dangle uselessly at his sides, until she nibbles at his bottom lip, sucking gently to soothe the sting. Then they're running up her denim covered thighs, grasping her hips and pulling her closer. She rocks against him, her fingers sneaking under his shirt to trace the waistband of his pants, nails raking lightly, and Klaus lets out a groan, tearing his mouth from hers. He tries to speak again, but she grinds against him once more, and the pressure against his rapidly hardening cock is an excellent distraction as he tries not to moan.

She smirks down at him, "Pretty sure I told you to shut up, Klaus. Assuming of course, that you're still interested in getting me off?"

He nods, because it's been difficult to think of much else, when they've been locked away together, and he may have purposely baited her a time or two in order to hide his lack of attention to whatever material they'd been covering.

"Great! But first…" a devilish look crosses Caroline's features, and then her hands have left his stomach and are prying his hands off of her hips. She rises, nudging his knees apart to stand between them. "Take off your shirt."

Klaus clears his throat, "Why don't we go back to mine, love? Surely it'd be more comfortable? And private?"

Caroline shakes her head, "I guarantee you we're not the first people to fuck in one of these rooms, Klaus. There's a stash of condoms in the girls bathroom for a reason. Now. Shirt."

Klaus only hesitates for a few more seconds, before he complies, pulling it over his head. Caroline takes it, and drops it at her feet.

He leans back, and she studies him, appreciation and desire evident in her gaze, "Belt too."

Klaus raises a brow, not used to being the one taking orders, but not exactly hating it. He pulls his belt loose, works the button and zip of his jeans open, without asking questions.

She nods in approval, "I like the initiative."

And then she pulls off her own sweater, letting it join his on the floor. Klaus barely has time to take in the sheer pink bra she's wearing before Caroline's dropping to her knees, and he feels her lips brush his abdomen.

Klaus sucks in a breath, shocked and awed, his heart beginning to pound in anticipation. He feels Caroline smile against his stomach, and then she's glancing up, her eyes meeting his as her fingers hook into the waistband of his boxer briefs, her demand silent this time, but no less compelling.

He lifts his hips helps her pull his pants down until his cock springs free. She wraps a hand around him, her thumb running along the underside until it's circling the tip. He's having trouble processing this turn of events, how is it possible that just her hand feels _so_ good? And then her head drops abruptly, her tongue following the path that her thumb had traced. Klaus lets out a noise that would be embarrassing, if he had the will to care about such things with her lips closing around the head of his cock.

She sucks hard, her tongue lashing the tip, and Klaus' eyes slide shut, when she pulls back, as he struggles not to buck insistently towards her mouth. She blows a stream of air against him, cool after the hot suction, and Klaus jumps, looking back down at her, "I want you to watch, Klaus. Tell me something, did you ever think about this? What my mouth would feel like around your dick?"

He's nodding before she's finished her sentence, because of course he has. Since before they'd even spoken, one on one. Back when she was just the gorgeous blonde with the opinions and the eyes that spit disdain when Klaus argued with her in class.

She licks him again, rasping her tongue over the exact right place below the head. Klaus shifts in his seat, trying to keep breathing evenly. "How am I doing so far?" she asks, the glint in her eye telling him that she knows exactly how turned on he is, and that she likes it.

"It would be better if you took off your bra," Klaus tells her, his voice hoarse and just on the edge of pleading.

She bites her lip, like she's considering it, "Pretty sure you won't be able to see much. And it's not like you can reach…"

"Caroline…" Klaus trails off and he's tempted to add a please, to hurry things along, but it proves to be unnecessary as her hands leave his thighs and cross behind her back, her bra quickly loosening and falling away.

He wants to touch, moves forward with that purpose in mind, but her hand is firm on his chest, telling him to stay put.

"Boys and boobs," Caroline mutters, sounding mystified, before leaning back in. She stops, just before taking him in her mouth again, and Klaus bites back a protest, "And try to be quiet, okay? If you get us kicked out of here because of your sex noises I'm going to be pissed."

Klaus nods stiffly in acknowledgement, sure he'd agree to just about anything, if only she keeps going. He grips the arms of his chair to stop himself from burying his hands in her hair. He keeps his eyes open, not that it's a hardship, the sight of her lips stretched around his cock something he's sure he'll replay often. She varies the pressure and the speed, keeping him off balance, until his legs are shaking and his knuckles have turned white. Then her hand is cupping his balls, and he knows he's just about done for. He groans her name, softly, in warning, and her lips come off of him with an audible pop. She looks up at him, questioning, her hands picking up where her mouth had left off, stroking and rolling,

"Caroline I'm going to…"

She rolls her eyes, tossing her hair back, "Come in my mouth? Yeah, I got that thanks. Go ahead."

Klaus feels his eyes widen, but before he can say anything Caroline's sucking again, and she lets out a long hum on her way down, looking up at him and moaning on her way up in a way that has Klaus muttering curses. He tries to hold on, because he'd quite like her to know he has _some_ stamina, so she's willing to let him attempt to make good on his original offer, but Klaus finds that he can't and then his hips are twitching, his head falling back, as he lets go.

She swallows around him, and Klaus moans again at the feeling, and Caroline pulls back. She uses a dainty finger to wipe the edge of her lips, before she sucks it into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing around it as she watches him.

Klaus licks his lips, struggles to get his brain working enough to say anything, as she rises. He grabs her hand, tugging her towards him, kisses her stomach as he works the fastening of her jeans.

He's just managed to work a hand inside, can feel the heat of her, centimetres from his fingertips, when there's a tentative tapping at the door. Caroline moves quickly, backing away and scooping up her bra. She's working her arms through the straps when the voice of the knocker comes through, effectively shattering the mood, "Um, is everything alright in there? Someone said they heard moaning and I do not want to clean up puke. Again."

Klaus wants to scream, but he refrains and clears his throat, calling back, "We're fine! We're just getting ready to leave. I dropped a book on my foot."

Caroline smiles, probably at his lame excuse, shaking her head, but really, did she expect him to be at his intellectual best after what she'd just done to him? Not bloody likely.

"Five minutes," the library attendant replies sternly, tapping the door again before walking away.

Klaus waits a moment, until the footsteps fade, before he picks up his shirt, and walks over to where Caroline's packing up her stuff, "Now, where were we?" he asks, trying not to sound as hopeful as he feels.

The look she shoots him is incredulous, "If you think five minutes is all it's going to take you totally oversold yourself."

"Come back to mine and find out?" Klaus offers, attempting to seem casual.

The few seconds she spends considering might just be the longest of his life. But then Caroline nods, and Klaus' quite certain he's grinning like an absolute idiot.

**Present:**

Caroline had really, really tried to beg off going for post work drinks with her new team, but her protests had been steamrolled by Katherine's pushiness, Marcel's easy charm and Josh's exuberance.

And now they were drinking tequila.

More tequila than was appropriate, for a Monday, but when Katherine had called "And a round for Matty Blue Eyes!" they'd all done a shot and then they'd made up increasingly feeble excuses to do more. Caroline was a little drunk, and dreading tomorrow, but she'd been assured than Meredith was incredibly tolerant of hangovers, and that getting a new team member wasted was practically tradition.

They'd said their goodbyes, after a couple of hours, and Caroline was outside the bar, waiting for a cab. She was racking her brain, hoping she remembered her new address, but the exact numbers were proving difficult for her liquor soaked mind to grasp.

The street was quiet, so she stiffened when she heard footsteps behind her, reaching into her pocket and fingering the pepper spray that was attached to her keychain (thanks, mom!). Glancing back over her shoulder Caroline was momentarily relieved that it was just Klaus, before she remembered that she'd planned to avoid him until she sorted out how she felt about seeing him again.

She needed to make a list. Possibly call Bonnie for some emergency girl talk.

He walks over to stand beside her, and Caroline does her best to hold still, and not sway on her feet. Because he's studying her, and even though it's been awhile, he's seen her drunk before, and probably knows the signs. He'd managed to avoid the bulk of the tequila shots, weathering Katherine's boos with an unconcerned shrug, so he's considerably more sober than she is.

"Where are you headed, love?" he asks casually, reaching out to grasp her elbow.

Shit. That meant that she probably wasn't doing so well in the balance department.

"Home," Caroline tells him, wincing internally at how petulant she sounds.

"I'd assumed as much. Where's home these days?"

"Clark Street."

"North or south?"

Caroline's not actually entirely sure. Which was embarrassing.

Klaus picks up on her unsureness, leveling her with a mildly disapproving look, "It's in my phone," she mutters defensively, crossing her arms.

"Right. Then I'll just accompany you, shall I?"

"I'm not a kid, Klaus," she snaps.

"I'm very aware of that, Caroline. But honestly, it's not out of my way at all and you're fairly new to the city. It's easy to get lost, even if you weren't tipsy. So find your phone and we'll share a cab, alright?"

Grudgingly, Caroline digs through her bag, unlocking her phone and finding the emails she'd exchanged about her lease. "It's north."

"Excellent. Even closer to my place. Do you mind walking a bit? We'll probably have more luck a few streets over."

Caroline nods, and follows him in the direction he'd indicated, wobbling a little on her high heels, seriously considering taking them off. Her concerns about how unsanitary that would be battling with her desire not to sprain an ankle. And then Klaus offers her his arm, like they're in a freaking Jane Austen novel. Caroline takes it, telling herself it's because she really didn't like her alternatives, and a semi comfortable silence falls over them.

Caroline tries not to lean too heavily on him, sneaking peeks at his profile out of the corner of her eye, until suddenly Klaus laughs, and she looks forward, knowing that he's caught her, "Just say whatever's running through that overactive brain of yours, Caroline. You're dying to say something."

"I thought you were going back to London," Caroline blurts out.

"I did," Klaus answers easily, "for almost a year. But my father and I get on better with one another with an ocean between us. I started looking into positions in the US before long. My younger brother and sister followed me here, and my older brother travels often for work, so I barely had time to miss them before they were around, pestering me, once again."

"Oh," Caroline says, at a loss for how else to reply. He'd never really mentioned his parents, back at school, when they were doing the semi-friends with serious benefits thing. She'd known a bit about his siblings, had found the number of them kind of fascinating, as an only child, and he'd indulged her curiosity with stories from time to time.

"Can I ask you a question, Caroline? About what happened after graduation?"

She wants to say no, entirely certain of what he wants to ask, but that wouldn't exactly be fair, now would it? But even though the cold air is sobering her up, Caroline doesn't feel nearly ready to give Klaus an honest answer. She tightens her hand on his arm, pulling him to a halt, waiting for him to face her, "Not yet, okay? I'm still kind of in shock that you're here. And I'm a little drunk. What I did was shitty and cowardly and I've never really let myself think about why I did it, you know? I probably should."

His eyes narrow, as he seems to try to judge her sincerity, before he nods in acceptance. "Fine. I suppose I did have a bit of an advantage, knowing you were coming. I can give you time, but I won't forget this, Caroline."

"You never forget anything," Caroline complains, looping her arm through his again, "have I mentioned how super annoying that is?"

**February 2010:**

Knocking on Klaus' door had proved unsuccessful. Maybe if she knocked out a song? Klaus was a total music snob (he had not appreciated her assertion that The Beatles were the NSYNC of their time. At all) so maybe 'Tik Tok' would summon him? Worth a shot.

Caroline was just hitting the first chorus, really starting to get into it, when the door was thrown open. Caroline had been leaning heavily against it. Without the support she stumbled forward, directly into Klaus' bare chest.

Not that she minded. Klaus' hot naked body was pretty much the whole reason she was here.

She nuzzled into his shoulder, snaking her arms around his waist, taking a deep appreciative inhale. He always smelled weirdly good, to a distracting degree, and it really wasn't fair, in Caroline's opinion. How was she supposed to remember what a douche he could be, when he smelled like that, and was so enthusiastic about oral sex?

Sadly uncommon, in college guys. They were all about the blow jobs but when it came to returning the favor? It was all excuses and pulling faces and weird technique.

Klaus runs a hand through her hair, and when he says her name he sounds sleepy and confused, "Caroline? What are you doing here? You smell like vodka, love."

"Spilled it. Sorry."

Caroline's pretty sure that vodka isn't a good smell, so she squirms away from him, and tugs off her dress. He's stiff (and not the fun kind of stiff, though she thinks that'll happen soon, judging by the bulge she feels pressed against her stomach) when she presses up against him and he pushes her away gently, hurriedly closing his door.

Whoops. Good thing is was so late or she probably would have flashed her mostly bare ass at Klaus' neighbors.

He keeps her at arm's length, his hands on her shoulders like they're at a chaperoned dance, "Caroline, are you drunk?"

"Little bit," Caroline confesses, running her fingers over his abs, liking the way they tense at her touch. "It's Valentine's Day."

"Was Valentine's Day," Klaus corrects, "three hours ago, give or take a few minutes. Which makes me wonder why you're here, pawing at me, and not with your boyfriend."

"Like you mind."

Klaus merely looks at her, waiting for an answer.

Caroline groans, faintly humiliated, muttering, "We broke up," and avoiding his eyes.

Klaus looks shocked, and Caroline can't blame him. She'd purposely made out like everything was hunky dory, unwilling to rehash the sniping they'd done when Caroline had first started seriously dating her now ex. Klaus touches her chin, dipping his head to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What? When?"

"Like six weeks ago?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ugh!" Caroline throws up her hands and flounces away, "because you would have been all, 'I told you so, Caroline.' And yeah, you were totally right. He was boring and he talked way too much about himself and I faked a lot of orgasms cause he couldn't find my clit even if I drew him a map."

When she whirls back to face him, Klaus' lips are pressed together, like he's trying not to laugh, "I don't believe I ever said that last bit. Might have thought it."

She flops down on his couch, crossing her arms, barely noticing that she's mostly undressed. Klaus had seen every inch of her, seemed to enjoy them all, so a little partial nudity in his presence wasn't a big deal, "I don't like hearing I told you so's. From anyone. But especially from you."

"I'd like to think I'd have managed a little sensitivity, sweetheart. When presented with your broken heart."

"You? Sensitive? Puh-lease."

Klaus sits down next to her, and takes her hand, squeezing her fingers gently, "I'd have tried. For you."

She squints at him, taken aback, like she always is, when he's soft and open like this. So brushes it off, like she always does, because examining the reasons why it made her giddy, and why he did it in the first place, made Caroline feel crazy awkward.

She and Klaus argued. And they had hot sex. That was all.

They worked weirdly well together, and he was always her first pick for a project partner, because they pushed each other, and he made her better, even if the road was bumpy and Caroline occasionally wanted to throw things at him. They had moments where things felt almost friendly, usually after a successful presentation, of having handed in a kick ass paper. But he wasn't someone she'd call for advice about her boyfriend (mostly because he'd seemed to loathe them) and she'd hang up if he tried to do the same (mostly because he had terrible taste in women).

"My heart wasn't broken," she tells him, pushing deeper thoughts aside, and getting to the reason she'd treated him to the musical stylings of Ke$ha at 3AM. "Not even bruised. I seriously just was not that into him."

"So you didn't bang on my door because you felt bad about your breakup, on the most disgusting of commercialized holidays?"

Caroline shoots him an incredulous look, swinging her leg over his thighs until she's straddling him, "Seriously? I stripped and practically licked your chest, Klaus. Take a hint."

But he stops her, before she can kiss him, "You're drunk, Caroline."

"Not that drunk!" she protests, because she knows where this is going.

"Drunk enough." Klaus runs his hands up her sides, cruelly avoiding the fun areas, his voice dropping, "I like you sober, and responsive. I want you to remember everything, so when I text you reminders of the things I did to you, the memories are crystal clear, and I can watch you squirm in class."

God, she kind of loved it when he did that.

Klaus laughs softly, "I know you do, love. And I like it when you pull me into empty classrooms, and demand that I make you come."

Ugh, she totally hadn't meant to say that out loud. "You suck," Caroline tells him, with great conviction, shifting off of his lap and slumping into the couch, pressing her thighs together, to attempt to soothe the dull ache his words had started up.

Klaus smiles, turning towards her, running a single finger along the band of her panties. She swats his hands away, with a glare, because no way was she letting him start something he had no intention of finishing. "Don't be cross. We don't have class until one tomorrow. Plenty of time for you to sleep the liquor off and for us to catch up."

Caroline supposes she can deal with that, "Fine. Only because your bed is freakishly comfortable."

"And because you've not had a proper orgasm not from your own hand in ages, hmm?"

He sounds entirely too amused again, and Caroline shoves him half-heartedly, "Shut up."

He laughs outright at that, "If I remember correctly, your insistence that I do exactly that was how this whole thing started."

She scoffs, "Hey, if I'm not getting off, you're not getting off. Blowjobs are off the table until tomorrow. Assuming you live up to the hype, we can renegotiate."

"Don't I always?" Klaus counters, rising and pulling her off the couch.

She'd be annoyed about the smugness, but he kind of has a point.

**Present:**

It's late, when Klaus finally emerges from his office, and he'd assumed he'd be the only one still working. So he's surprised, when he finds that's not the case. There's a light coming from the crack underneath Caroline's door.

She's been tag teaming an account with Josh, with particularly difficult clients. They'd foolishly taken a low bid, with another agency, for a national campaign, and the results had been horrible. So they were a gun shy, prone to micro managing. Their doubts had only made Caroline more determined to deliver a spectacular final product and she'd been running herself into the ground to do so.

There are days where she seems to run on caffeine and little else, and Klaus finds himself a worried about her health (though her friendship with Katherine has come along nicely, in the six weeks they've been working together, and the abrasive brunette is at least good for barking, 'sit down and eat a sandwich before I make you,' saving Klaus the trouble, when Caroline seems to forget to eat).

She shies away from being alone with him, and Klaus doesn't press. He flirts, and sometimes she flirts back, and they've come round to a less antagonistic (and sadly less sexual) version of the working partnership they'd developed in college. They still butted heads, it was impossible not to, but once they got started they could finish each other sentences. It had happened in a group meeting, the rest of the team and Meredith fading away as they'd gone back and forth. Josh had pronounced it 'freaky' and Katherine had made a remark about how she felt like she'd been watching porn.

She'd received vicious glares from both Caroline and Klaus for that crack, the rest of the team hiding smiles behind coffee cups or hands. Katherine, characteristically, had not been at all repentant.

Klaus considers leaving quietly, but he's familiar with Caroline's tendency to get completely lost in her work, knows there's a possibility that he could come in tomorrow, to find her bleary eyed and wearing the same dress from today. So he taps on her door, waits for her soft, "Come in."

Klaus wanders in, helping himself to a guest chair, takes in the mess that is the top of her desk, "So? What is it then? The new crisis? And where's Josh?"

Caroline lets out a tired sigh, leaning back and stretching out her arms, "They hate the copy. I'm trying to adjust it without having to rewrite it because that will take forever and we're already behind schedule. And it's Josh and Aiden's anniversary."

"Ah, and your secret soft spot for romance wouldn't let you demand he stay, would it?"

"I can't help it if they are ridiculously adorable," Caroline retorts, an edge of defensiveness that's ruined by the way she winces when her back audibly cracks.

"You need to get away from that desk," Klaus tells her, "and you need food. Come on, Meredith has a couch and we can order pizza. I'll help you with the text."

She shakes her head, "You don't have to do that, Klaus. I'm fine. You can go home. I'm sure you have a million better things to do."

"I really don't," he assures her. Marcel's at a basketball game, Rebekah in the midst of finals, Kol away on a work trip. His last casual relationship had fizzled, right around the time Caroline had been hired, and Klaus is not one to lie to himself, so he's well aware that the timing isn't coincidental.

But still, Caroline hesitates. "Are you sure? I know things have maybe been a little weird, and I totally don't want you to feel like you're obligated…"

"Caroline," Klaus cuts her off, letting his exasperation shine through, "it's been awhile, but you know me. When have I ever done anything just because I felt obligated?"

She cracks a smile at that, "I suppose that's true. Alright, fine. Let me gather my stuff up and I'll meet you in Meredith's office."

**April 2010:**

**Caroline [TUESDAY 4:11 PM]:**

_Are you busy tonight?_

**Klaus [TUESDAY 4:15 PM]:**

_No, why?_

**Caroline [TUESDAY 4:16]:**

_You KNOW why._

**Klaus [TUESDAY 4:17]:**

_You wish to use my body, once again? I suppose I could make time for that._

**Caroline [TUESDAY 4:18]:**

_If it's such a hardship I can make do with my vibrator, you know._

**Klaus [TUESDAY 4:19]:**

_It's so unfair that you taunt me with that, and yet you won't let me watch._

**Caroline [TUESDAY 4:21]:**

_Life's not fair. Can I come over or what?_

**Klaus [TUESDAY 4:22]:**

_Obviously. I'll be home around 6._

**Caroline [TUESDAY 4:23]:**

_Great. I'll be the blonde in the blue dress outside your apartment. And I won't be wearing panties._

**Klaus [TUESDAY 4:23]:**

_Also unfair, Caroline. You can't say things like that._

**Caroline [TUESDAY 4:25]:**

;)

When the elevator opens, Klaus' eyes are immediately drawn to Caroline, leaning against his door. She catches his eye, makes a 'hurry up' gesture, and Klaus can't help but grin at her eagerness. It's why he's come to love finals, these last few years. Caroline has a few preferred outlets, when it comes to dealing with stress, and Klaus does not mind being one of them in the least.

But he does like to tease her, so he keeps his pace slow, as he approaches, "Evening, love. Have a good day?"

She's silent, as he approaches, and when he's within reach her arm shoots out, and grabs a handful of his shirt, yanking him in to her. Klaus goes willingly, his hands spanning her hips and pressing the length of her against the door. She buries her face in his shoulder, her words coming out tired and clipped, "My day was a nightmare, thanks for asking. And I have a meeting with my awful International Marketing study group at 8. That leaves me with approximately one hour and fifty minutes to make this day not totally suck. You wanna help me with that?"

"Always," Klaus tells her, letting go of her to dig out his keys, and unlock the door. She makes it difficult, her lips wandering up his throat, as her hands creep under his shirt.

Klaus grits his teeth, and tries not to concentrate on the bite of her nails, the press of her hips into his, fumbling until the door opens. He's not thought this through, however, and the door swinging open throws them off balance, and they stumble ungracefully across the threshold, legs tangling. It's lucky his flat is small, and they manage the few steps to his couch, before toppling over in a heap. Caroline's shaking, underneath him, and Klaus heaves himself up, brushing her hair from her face, to make sure she's alright. But she's laughing, cheeks turning pink, "Smooth, Klaus," she manages between giggles.

He narrows his eyes at her and sits up, pulling his shirt off, satisfied when her laughter fades. One of her legs is pinned behind him, the other off the couch, her foot resting on the floor, her dress riding high on her thighs. He puts his hands on her legs, runs his thumbs teasingly along her soft skin, pushing her dress up. "You're a liar, Caroline Forbes," Klaus accuses, seeing the pink lace knickers she wears.

Caroline grins up at him, unrepentant, "It's windy," she justifies, before she shifts, pressing downwards, a silent demand for more of his touch.

It's a demand that Klaus ignores, running his palms down the length of her legs, pulling her shoes off and letting them drop to the floor.

"Klaus," she says, sounding peeved, "you're kind of on the clock here."

He shakes his head, smiling down at her. They've nearly two hours, and while it's not long enough to do everything he _wants_ to do to her, it's plenty long enough for her to come for him, more than once. But Caroline has never been very patient, when they're like this.

She proves his point, letting out an annoyed sigh. Caroline runs her hands slowly down her body, fingering the top band of her underwear. She makes no move to push them down, as he's assumed she would, and a tiny evil smirk, one that Klaus _knows_, that he both loves and loathes, in equal measure, graces her features. And then her hand disappears, under the fabric, and her head tips back in a moan as she touches herself.

Klaus bites the inside of his cheek, to keep from cursing. He sometimes forgets that she knows his triggers, every bit as well as he knows hers. They've been sleeping together off and on (more on than off, especially this year) for quite some time now, so it's only natural. And this is not the first time she's ruthlessly exploited, something she knows he likes.

Caroline's smirk turns triumphant, as his hands go to her knickers, beginning to peel them away. Her hand speeds up, lips parting around a gasp. "Maybe," she pants, her eyes taunting, "I should have saved myself a trip?"

Instead of answering, Klaus slides off the couch. He hitches her thigh over his shoulders, watching her fingers play with her clit for as long as he can bear it. Then he stills her wrist, and bends to suck her clit into his mouth. Her back arches off the couch, and after a couple of swirls of his tongue Klaus pulls back, easing his fingers inside of her. This time when she moans it's high pitched and needy. He wants to say something witty, but frankly there's not enough blood in his brain, to make intelligent speech a reality.

Her legs are tense, faintly trembling, and Klaus kneads the muscles, relishing the little shudder that overtakes her. She props herself up slightly, looking down at him, pupils blown and her lips are wet, "Klaus," she says, faintly pleading, urging him closer with her heel on his back.

He's never quite able to resist her, and why would he, when watching her come undone is one of the best things he's ever seen? He speeds up the motions of his fingers and sets his mouth on her again, applying pressure where he knows she likes it, following the motions of her body as she rides out her pleasure, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the upholstery under her as his name falls from her lips again, drawn out and breathless.

She's still, for several moments, after she finishes, trying to force her ragged breaths to calm. Klaus kisses her hipbone, easing the dress she's unfortunately still wearing up her torso, "I do believe we have time for more, yes?"

Caroline snorts, pushing herself up and taking over for him, pulling her dress over her head. Her hair tumbles around her shoulders, and she leans forward to unclip her bra, pressing a quick kiss to Klaus' lips. She lets the bra fall away, and slips off the couch onto his lap, pressing her breasts to his chest and rocking against him, "Hell, yes. Now take off your pants."

**Present:**

They hadn't lasted long, on Meredith's couch, soon retreating to the floor and spreading out Caroline's papers. Klaus is very aware of her thighs, specifically of the lace tops of the stockings she appears to be wearing, just visible from the way the slim skirt of her dress is bunched up, to allow her to sit.

She'd never worn anything like that at university. Not for him, at least.

Klaus does some uncomfortable shifting, tries not to stare too obviously, unwilling to make things awkward. And obscures the obvious bulge in the front of his trousers with his laptop.

Delving into the client's notes, Klaus had immediately seen why Caroline had taken to tearing out her hair, when dealing with them. They were a mess, full of contradictory ideas and vague, unhelpful, statements. How did one make something, 'more zippy?' Klaus had not the faintest idea.

But they muddle through, spending nearly two hours, trying to straighten things out, until finally Caroline lets out a groan, flopping back onto the floor, rubbing her eyes. "That's it. I am done. Towel thrown, at least for tonight. I might even text Josh, and tell him I'm going to start late tomorrow. Pretty sure I deserve it."

"I agree, love."

She nods, resolutely, reaching her arms over her head, and letting out a groan at the full body stretch. And she's obviously trying to kill him, because years ago she'd done the exact same thing, on the numerous mornings she'd awoken in his bed. Except she'd been naked. And it had usually been before she'd rolled on top of him. She can't think he doesn't remember that, can she?"

Klaus' next words fall from his mouth, without his brain's permission, "Why'd you leave that morning, Caroline?"

She freezes, arms suspended above her head, eyes darting to him.

He should probably take the words back, should probably wait for a better time. He'd always meant to broach the subject gently. In a comfortable location. With wine, maybe food.

But it's out there now, and Klaus dearly wants to know the answer. Would taking it back do any good? Or would it just ramp up the awkwardness that they've managed to avoid so far? Klaus makes the decision to let the question lie, watching her intently.

Caroline sits up, tucking her hair behind her ears, looking up at the ceiling, "God, I've been thinking about this for weeks, and I have no idea how to start."

"Take your time, love. I've wondered for years, I'm sure I can survive a few more minutes. Perhaps you could start with why you lied to me?"

**May 2010:**

It's after eleven, Caroline's dorm room is packed up and ready for her dad to come pick her up tomorrow. But Caroline's not at all sleepy. She'd just gotten out of the shower, and is glancing around her empty room, debating running out to get something to eat.

And then her phone rings.

Caroline grabs it, grateful for the distraction. She feels overwhelmed, and kind of sad, knowing this part of her life is over, despite the fact that she's proud of how well she'd done (college had totally been her bitch, and Caroline's sure she'll be able to conquer the next stage of her life too). She's excited to get out into the world, to try her hand at being an actual grown up.

She rolls her eyes, when she sees that it's Klaus calling, though her lips form a fond smile. She taps answer, but doesn't even get a chance to say 'Hello,' before his voice is coming through the speaker. She can tell he's wasted, by the way he drawls out "Caroline," as if her name contains about fourteen o's and eight i's.

Well, there go her hopes for one last hook up before they wander off in separate directions. Things have been weird between them for weeks, strained in a way they never have been before, both of them opening their mouths to say something, that they never quite managed to. Caroline always chickens out, and Klaus always turns whatever he'd been thinking into a quip, but the tension lingers. The way he touches her has been different, he seems to want to take his time, and though he's always liked to watch her, there's a new focus now, like he's trying to memorize their final moments.

Caroline's going to miss him, and she has no idea how that happened, or how to tell him, or if he'd even care. Or what she could possibly do if it turned out that he did.

She's taken too long to reply to him, and Klaus has taken to chanting her name, emphasizing the syllables in different ways. It was probably time to get him cut off, and make sure he's not laying in a ditch somewhere, "Hey, there, drunky. I take it you had a good time after graduation?"

"My brother was indignant that no one will serve him alcohol here. So I bought bourbon. Lots and lots of bourbon."

"I can tell," Caroline replies, amused. "So you're alright? You don't need a ride home?"

"Nope. I'm at home. Elijah took Kol and Bekah back to their hotel," Klaus' voice drops suggestively, though the effect is kind of ruined by the slurring, "So I'm all alone. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

"I don't know," Caroline teases, "pretty sure you're too drunk to be of much use to me."

"Don't pretend you only like my cock, Caroline Forbes," Klaus says seriously, "I am on to you."

She laughs, "You maybe grew on me. A little. Like mold."

"That's right I did," Klaus boasts proudly, before he falls silent. Caroline can hear him breathing, so she knows he's still there, and when he speaks again it's softer and cajoling, "Come over, love. Please? One last night? Just to sleep, if that's all you want. I want to see you."

Caroline swallows hard, around the lump that's suddenly formed in her throat. She wants to see him too, at least one last time. "Okay," she agrees, inhaling shakily, "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

His door's ajar, when Caroline gets there, and she's going to have some serious words with him about that later because did he want to get robbed and/or serial killed?

She's about to push it open when she hears a crash, the sound of glass breaking, coming from inside the apartment. Caroline jumps and enters in a rush, worried that he's managed to hurt himself.

But Klaus seems fine, standing in the kitchen, no blood in sight.

"Ugh, give me a heart attack why don't you!" Caroline can't help scolding him, dropping her purse on the table.

"Thirsty," Klaus mumbles. "Water is slippery."

Rounding the island, Caroline sees that he's dropped a glass, and that he's not wearing shoes. He's swaying a bit, and she hurries over to him, ignoring the crunching under her sneakers, "Hey, careful. Don't move your feet, okay?" She helps him lean over slightly, so he's supporting himself on the counter, before she darts down the hall to grab a towel. She cleans up the mess, keeping a careful eye on him, but Klaus seems content to watch her work.

When Caroline's done she takes his arm, to lead him out of the kitchen, "You know you have perfectly good, perfectly _plastic_, bottles of water in you fridge, right?"

Klaus seems to think about that, for a minute, his face creasing with what seems to be great effort. Caroline bites her lip, to keep from laughing when he finally says, "I think I forgot."

"I am so tempted to film this, because you're going to be super embarrassed later," Caroline tells him.

"You won't be here later," Klaus replies solemnly. "That's why I'm drunk."

Caroline looks over at him, pulling them to a stop. A little too abruptly, given Klaus' diminished reflexes, and he teeters, before he catches himself on the wall, "What does that even mean?" she asks.

Klaus reaches out to her, fingertips stroking her collarbone clumsily, "My brother Kol's appallingly nosy. Doesn't exactly believe in discretion, when it comes to telling tales about his sexual exploits. Or asking about mine. And I realized that I have none to tell."

"Gee, thanks," Caroline bites out flatly, not sure if she's more offended that he was bragging to his brother about his sex life, or that she apparently wasn't worth a mention.

Klaus shakes his head, trying to pull her into him, "No, not like you're thinking. I realized I haven't been with anyone else all year, Caroline. And that I hadn't wanted to. And that the thought of talking about you like you're just some girl I fuck on occasion turns my stomach."

"Oh," Caroline says, wincing at the lameness of it, urging him into walking again, "I'm… not exactly sure what to say to that."

They reach the door to his bedroom and Klaus disentangles himself from her, making his way unsteadily towards the bed. "And that's the problem, isn't it?" Klaus says, letting himself fall onto the mattress, "I'm quite sure I'm in love with you, and you have no idea."

Caroline sucks in a breath, floored. Because she hadn't expected that. That Klaus harbored some feelings, yes. But love? That was far more than she'd expected him to ever admit.

She wants to press him, but it wouldn't be fair. Not when he's drunk and chatty and pliable. It's entirely possible that he won't remember this tomorrow, that he'd never meant confess the depths of what he thinks he feels for her.

He's got a leg hanging off the edge, and Caroline goes over, pushes until he gets the hint, and rolls over with a grunt, until he's on the bed more fully. She undoes his belt, and he cracks his eyes open, with a mischievous smile. It would usually send all sorts of naughty ideas spinning through Caroline's mind. But not right now, when his eyes are bleary and bloodshot and having trouble focusing, "I thought you said there'd be none of that tonight?" he mumbles.

Caroline giggles at his hopeful expression, "There won't be. But you're going to be cranky enough tomorrow, even if you don't sleep in your clothes."

He seems to agree, shifting in an attempt to help her. He's more of a hindrance, especially when he decides that his shirt and boxer briefs should go too.

She keeps her eyes averted, to the best of her ability (but she's not claiming to be a saint, okay?) He's restless, trying to get comfortable, pulling the covers up to his chin. "I'm going to get you some water," she tells him. "Don't move."

Klaus is barely managing to keep his eyes open, at this point, but his hand reaches out, latches onto her wrist, "You'll stay?"

Caroline's not sure if it's wise, and she knows that she's about five seconds away from a moderate to severe freak-out, and she'd really rather do that in the relative privacy of Klaus' kitchen. "I'll stay," she agrees quietly, and Klaus lets go, turning over onto his side.

Caroline catches his softly muttered, "Thank you," just before she leaves the room.

**Present:**

"I did not lie," Caroline insists. Klaus looks skeptical, so she keeps talking, "I didn't! I stayed. I left at like 8AM."

"And left Advil on my night stand. And set up my coffee pot and washed my dishes. All very polite. Didn't exactly make me feel better about finding you gone."

It's only mildly accusatory, and he mostly masks the underlying hurt, but Caroline still feels terrible.

"I'm sorry," Caroline blurts out. She shifts slightly closer. She wants to touch him, take his hand, something. But she forces herself not to, not sure if the gesture would be welcome.

Klaus doesn't reject her apology, and at least that's something. "Why, Caroline?" he presses.

"Do you remember what you said to me?" she says, words bleeding together in a rush, but he manages to understand.

Klaus lips twist with wry amusement, "Do I remember drunkenly confessing to loving you? Something I'd never done before, or since? Of course I do. Sort of hard to forget, when I always assumed it to be the reason you fled."

"Klaus, seriously? No." Caroline gives up on not touching him, pushing up to her knees and moving closer, wrapping both of her hands around one of his, pulling gently until he looks at her.

"I left because I was twenty-one, and kind of an idiot sometimes. I left because I assumed certain things about our relationship, and you kind of shot those assumptions to hell. I left because I didn't know how to deal with the fact that maybe we were more than fuck buddies, and I felt stupid. What if you woke up, and remembered what you'd said, how was I supposed to avoid telling you that I loved you too? And then what were we even going to do? I was driving back to Virginia that afternoon. And what if you didn't remember? God, that scared me more than anything. Because I wouldn't have been able to act normal, drama classes or not. And then I just kind of convinced myself that the whole thing was silly, and meant nothing. That it was something that I'd just blown up in my head. Turns out I kind of excel at denial, who knew? And then I saw you here, and I knew that I was screwed, and all the stellar effort I'd put into trying to forget you was useless."

He shakes her hands off and Caroline cringes, thinking he's angry. But Klaus wraps a palm around the back of her neck, pulling her forward, sealing his mouth over hers. She doesn't even think about not responding, opening her mouth and letting out a moan once she tastes him again.

He gets to his knees too, tipping her head back as he kisses her deeply, clutching her tightly to him. She grabs his biceps, tearing her mouth away, to pull in a breath. Klaus kisses down her neck and she lets out a hiss, tipping her head to the side to encourage him. Something about his lips, and the faint scratch of his stubble, after so long, felt almost unbearably good.

She barely notices his fingers, toying with her zipper, until the sound of the teeth parting gives her pause. It's loud in the quiet stillness of Meredith's office. They're too high up for street noise, and the night is inky black through the big windows.

"Klaus," Caroline mutters, untucking his shirt, and slipping her hands under, feeling up the line of his abdomen, "we really shouldn't do this here."

He laughs softly, and she feels his body shake against hers. She can't really blame him, because the way she's touching him, greedy for the feel of his skin, doesn't really scream 'stop.' "Come on, love," he coaxes. "Sex in inappropriate places is kind of our thing, is it not?"

He pushes her dress down to her waist, bends to lave her nipple, through the lace of her bra, applying just a hint of teeth. Caroline arches backwards, demanding more, and it's only his arm, firmly banded around her, that lets her keep her balance.

He switches sides, hooking a finger into the cup to pull it down this time, and his hot mouth on the sensitive peak makes Caroline forget why she'd thought this was a bad idea, reaching back to undo her bra.

He skims his fingertips along her lower back, toying with the band of her panties, occasionally dipping under.

Caroline makes a protesting noise, when he pulls away from her breast, is confused when he stands, and offers her a hand. But she takes it, lets him pull her up. Accepts his kiss, her fingers nimbly attacking the buttons of his shirt, shoving it off and running her hands all over his newly bared skin.

He moves backwards, blindly, and they're trampling her notes, but Caroline can't bring herself to care, not when they're bumping into the couch and he's sitting down. His hands are firm on her hips, preventing her from following him, and he yanks her dress off, before helping her straddle his lap.

"I like these," Klaus comments, a light touch skimming the straps of the garters she wears, watching his fingers on her skin.

The appreciation is nice, but Caroline wants more of his hands, less of his eyes. She reaches down and pulls, undoing the clips with harsh tugs. The fact that she's probably ruined the stockings is the last thing on her mind, because Klaus helps her fling the garter belt away, and then he's stroking her over her panties, pressing down and letting out a pleased hum, when he finds the fabric that covers her wet. "I have missed this," he says, tone almost reverent. He looks up at her, studies her face. Caroline doesn't try to hide how much she wants this, wants _him_. He hooks his finger underneath the silk she wears, pushing his knuckle into her folds, teasingly running it up and down, until Caroline's grinding down, needing more friction, or direct pressure on her clit, or a part of him inside of her.

He slows, and she whimpers, curving her body over his to kiss him, she sucks his lower lip into her mouth, reaches down to fumble with his belt, "God, Klaus. More."

He slides her panties to the side, cupping her briefly before he eases two fingers into her. She moans against his mouth, when the heel of his hand pushes down, stimulating her clit. Caroline rocks against his hand, rubs her nipples against his bare chest. Her hands are shaking, yanking at his zipper, before she parts the fabric and shoves his boxer briefs down, getting her hand around his cock. He presses his mouth to her shoulder, bites down and groans her name.

She reaches down, tries to pull his hand from her. He resists, brushing his thumb over her clit and Caroline shudders, letting out a soft cry. "Klaus," she pants, "I'm going to come."

He smirks, pleased with himself, "I'm aware. I remember the signs."

She rolls her eyes, pulling more firmly on his wrist, ducking her head to suck his fingers into her mouth. Klaus eyes widen, and he goes rigid under her. It's not a move she would have thought to try, years ago, but it's clear that he likes it. After releasing his fingers, Caroline kisses him again, and he licks into her mouth eagerly, trying to follow her when she pulls back. She rests her forehead against his for a moment, clutching his shoulders and lifting up to position his cock at her entrance, "I want you inside me," she tells him, letting herself sink down. Klaus' head falls back, his eyes fluttering shut, face strained. Caroline grinds against him, once he's fully seated.

She doesn't move, even though she'd nearly desperate too. This feels better than good, better than she'd remembered. And she wants him to look at her.

He sets his hands on her hips, tries to lever her up, but Caroline bears down, and they both moan as he sinks deeper. "Look at me, Klaus," Caroline instructs breathlessly, "I thought you liked to watch."

His eyes open immediately. His pupils are blown and his iris' a dark blue. She slides up his length, torturously slowly, before dropping back down in a rush. He allows her to set the pace, his jaw clenching before he leans back, planting his feet and meeting her downward motion with a sharp thrust up. And then they're speeding up, trying to get closer, motions roughening with their need.

His fingers bite into her skin, but she knows she won't mind the bruises. His breaths are harsh, his teeth gritted. He manages to say her name, hoarse and needy and she knows he's struggling to hold on. She lets go of his shoulder, reaches down to rub her clit, "It's okay," she tells him. "Come. I'm almost…"

Klaus lets go then, shuddering underneath her, and she presses against him, her practiced fingers giving her the push she needs to follow him over the edge.

* * *

"Oh my god, we are so getting fired," Caroline mutters into Klaus' shoulder, several long minutes later. She makes no move to get up, however. She likes the feel of his skin, against hers, wants to savour it a little longer.

"Worth it," he answers immediately, tracing shapes on her back with gentle fingertips.

Caroline smiles, because as replies went, that one had been pretty damn charming. She rolls her head to the side, squinting at a clock on the far wall. It's close to 2 AM and she groans with the realization, pulling back to look at him. "We really need to go home."

Klaus' face dims, his eyes narrowing slightly, "I see," he says, tone clipped and cold.

Caroline touches his face, not allowing him to look away, because she's pretty sure she knows what he's thinking, and he's completely wrong. "I think we should go to dinner, tomorrow. Like a date. I know we've done this in the completely wrong order, and are therefore probably doomed, according to conventional women's magazine wisdom, but I'd like to try."

Her voice wavers, a little, at the end. Because the fear of rejection was a real thing, freaking terrifying, especially when you were naked. He'd thought he was in love with her years before, and there's no guarantee he still is.

Still. Caroline had been cowardly, when she'd run away before. She's not going to make the same mistake twice.

Klaus smiles, as she finishes her invitation, and his eyes light up, when he nods his acceptance. He looks happy, and a tiny bit shell-shocked, like he can't believe his luck.

Caroline thinks this might be the start of the best thing she's ever done.


	18. klarolineauweek1 AU: Mythical Creatures

**Notes: **From klarolineauweek Day Six. The theme was AU: Mythological Creatures. I ended up posting two semi-crack drabbles. But I kind of like them! I appreciate people taking the time to read and review! I skipped Day Seven (Mates/Soulmates) only posting a little snippet of an upcoming fic. So there's just one more set of these after this one.

**As One Wishes To Live**

**(The initial prompt was pulled from a prompt Tumblr (I can't remember which one!): "****Yeah hey thanks for rubbing my lamp I'm your genie or whatever listen where is the closest newspaper stand I've been in that lamp for a long time and I need to check my stocks also what year is it?" AU – but it veered in a different direction. Title taken from an Oscar Wilde quote. Rated T.)**

Caroline was being taunted.

By the tarnished gold _thing_ that sat on her mantle.

It had been there since Sunday morning - when the girls had come over for brunch. It kind of looked like a gravy boat, and Caroline had no idea what its actual purpose might have been. Kat had produced it with a flourish, explaining that she'd found it in an antique store and that the owner had said it was guaranteed to make a young ladies' dreams come true.

But, as Kat had proudly proclaimed, she wasn't exactly a lady, and Caroline needed it more.

Caroline had protested, and they'd squabbled briefly, much to Bonnie and Elena's amusement. Kat had won, since she was one of the few people on earth who stood a chance against Caroline's stubbornness. Kat had plopped the tacky gold tchotchke on Caroline's kitchen table on her way out, tossing her hair and smirking, in the face of Caroline's glare. Caroline had moved it immediately, thinking she could more easily ignore it if it sat over her fireplace.

But that hadn't happened.

Caroline's eye was constantly drawn to it. Whenever she was in the living room, or even just passing through. She wished she could throw it out. But Kat would _never_ let that go. Caroline was stuck with it.

It really didn't go with any of her stuff. But maybe it wouldn't be such an aesthetic train wreck if she polished it? Being clean couldn't make the thing any uglier.

Resigned, Caroline dug out a jar of metal polish, and a cotton cloth, spreading out some old newspapers and rolling up her sleeves. She scrubbed at the metal, for a few seconds, before a thin, blue-tinged, misty-smoky substance began to stream out of the spout. Caroline panicked, dropped it with a clatter, and shoved her chair back from the table. Was this some kind of weird chemical reaction? She totally should have checked the date on the polish. The windows were open so it couldn't be that bad, could it? She wasn't going to die from inhaling this stuff, was she?

The smoke thickened, filled the air, the scent of it pleasant, like pine trees and oranges. Caroline squinted, trying to see through, able to just make out the shape of her couch, across the room.

And then, the smoke dissipated, all at once.

And Caroline was left blinking, mouth agape, at a very attractive, very _naked_, man who was now standing in her condo.

She figured there were two explanations. Either Caroline was dead, or she was seriously high.

Caroline had never really thought about heaven (or if she was really qualified for admittance) but why wouldn't it be filled with nude men with spectacular abs? And if she was high, well, then she didn't have to feel weird about ogling the imaginary guy's package, did she?

And then he spoke. His voice was low and melodic, his words accented, "Mistress, how may I serve you?" he asked, bowing slightly at the waist.

And yeah, that really didn't help Caroline's composure. Because that sentence was right out of her naughtiest dreams.

She was leaning towards this being a hallucination, because surely dirty fantasies had no place in heaven? Her family had never been much for church, but from what she'd absorbed second hand, growing up in small town Virginia, she'd assumed God would kind of frown on the kinky stuff.

He was watching her expectantly, still bent slightly forward, "Um, what?" Caroline managed to stutter.

"Mistress, how may I serve you?" the man repeats, at a louder volume, with crisper enunciation.

"Oh, I heard you. I'm not an idiot."

"I would never call you such a thing, Mistress."

He's deferential in tone, but his expression hovers around boredom and if Caroline's not mistaken she sees a solid amount of resentment, in the press of his lips and the slight narrowing of his eyes.

She brings a hand up, rubs at her eyes. Blinks a few times, and nope. He's still there. "Awesome," Caroline mutters. "Totally wish I hadn't turned down those mushrooms in college. At least then I'd know how long a hallucination was supposed to last."

"You think me a figment of your imagination? I am not. I assure you, Mistress, that you are not the first to assume as much."

Caroline holds up a hand, "Could you stop calling me Mistress?"

"As you wish. I am yours to command. How shall I address you?"

"My name is Caroline."

"Those who summon me don't usually wish for me to be so familiar, but if that is what you prefer, then that is what I shall call you. How may I serve you, Caroline?"

Caroline ignores the tiny part of her brain marvelling at how hot that still managed to be, and focuses on his other words, "'Summon you'? I didn't _summon_ you."

"You possess my lamp, and rubbed it, therefore I am yours."

Caroline runs her hand through her hair, glancing around, to see if maybe this is some kind of elaborate prank. She wouldn't put it past Kat, to hire a stripper, just to mess with Caroline.

But there's no one around, and there's no way Kat could have known just _when_ Caroline would choose to deal with her gift.

"I think I need to sit down," Caroline says, nodding to herself. She kind of wants a drink, but she's pretty sure that will only make things worse. Backing up, she sits on the couch, pulling the throw off the back and offering it to the man. "Why don't you um, cover up? And sit down, so I can figure this out."

He takes the purple knit afghan from her, wrapping it around his waist before sinking to his knees at her feet.

Caroline leans back in alarm, "What are you doing? You can sit there," she points at the armchair next to her. The man rises, enviably graceful and regal, despite the fact that his only covering is her inexpert attempt at knitting (it was _supposed_ to have been a stress relieving activity. It hadn't worked out, once Caroline's innate need to strive for perfection had kicked in, only to have to battle her lack of skill).

He sits down in the indicated chair, "I apologize, Mist-Caroline. My last summoner did not allow me to sit on her furniture."

Caroline's mouth falls open, and she has no idea how to reply to something that's frankly so batshit insane. "Who are you?" she asks, finally. Because she really needs to figure out what the hell's happening here, and that seems like a pertinent question.

"I have been called many things, by many people. Are you asking me my name? It's been a very long time since I've used it." The man's head tips to the side and he seems puzzled, as he studies her.

"Yes. I am asking you your name."

"Niklaus. Though I always preferred simply Klaus, from people who were not my family."

"Klaus," Caroline tests it out, and he smiles, faintly. "I guess my next question is _what_ are you?" She has a sneaking suspicion. It's absolutely nuts, of course. But the lamp and the smoke, his subservient manners, only led her to one conclusion.

"I'm not certain how long it's been, but the last time I was out of my lamp the common term for what I am was 'genie.'"

A laugh bubbles out of Caroline, mildly hysterical, and she claps a hand over her mouth. Klaus raises an eyebrow, but doesn't seem offended. "I take it you don't believe in the existence of such things? Other beings, magic? Humans have become so mundane."

Caroline thinks she should probably be offended by that, but she'll allow the guy a little crankiness. It sounded like being a genie royally sucked.

"So, how does this work?" Caroline asks, pulling her legs up on the couch and leaning forward, "I get three wishes, right?"

"Precisely. And I am bound to serve you, until such a time as they are completed."

"Serve me how?" She's pretty sure she knows, and it makes her a little sick to her stomach.

Klaus shrugs, appearing resigned. "However you wish. Should you wish me to clean your home, I will do that. If you need me to cook for you, I've done that too. If you wish to take pleasure from my body, it is at your disposal. I belong to you."

God, that sounds so, so wrong. Caroline's shaking her head, getting up from the couch, "No. No, not going to happen."

"You may, of course, make your wishes quickly, if I displease you."

She whirls, "What? No! That's not what I meant. Geez. You're very pleasing."

"I am glad to hear it, Caroline. I look forward to serving you."

He says it mechanically, and Caroline doesn't buy it for a moment. "Alright, wish number one. I want you to be honest with me, and to feel free to tell me what you really think and feel."

Klaus eyes widen, "Are you sure? Wishes can't be revoked once granted."

"Yeah, I figured. And I am sure. That is my wish."

Klaus nods, closing his eyes briefly. When they open, he settles back into the chair, seemingly more relaxed. "I thank you, Caroline. I have not had such freedom in a very long time, and I am grateful that you will allow it, if only for a short time."

Caroline waves his thanks away, "Please. No thanks necessary. If I had to kiss ass and do someone else's bidding all the time I would totally explode. She sits down again, angling her body to face him, "Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions? You can totally say no, if you want to rest, or if you're hungry or anything. Actually, where are my manners? Can I get you a drink?"

"I am fine, thank you. I am in a state of sleep, when confined to my lamp, so I am not the least bit tired. And I don't require food."

"You can't eat?" Caroline exclaims, "I'm sorry, but this genie deal sounds worse and worse."

"I can eat. I just don't need to, to survive. And most of my past masters and mistresses did not allow me to."

"Well, they sound terrible. Help yourself to anything you want here, seriously." He looks like he's going to thank her again, but Caroline cuts him off before she can, "And please don't thank me for being a decent person."

He makes a soft, amused noise, "I can't help it. Decency is rarer than you seem to think."

"Depressing," Caroline muses, though she can't find it in her to blame him. He's only dropped a few scant tidbits, about his life, and Caroline assumes they're not even the tip of the iceberg. "So, how long have you been a genie? Or is it something you're born into?"

"I was cursed. Before that I was just a man. May I ask what year it is?"

"Of course. It's 2015."

Klaus' eyes light up, the blue of them brightening. He leans forward, grabbing at her hands, "Is it really?" he breathes in wonder.

"Uh, yeah. Almost 2016. Why so excited?"

"I was cursed in the year 1020. My curse was to last a thousand years. To know it's so close to expiring, that I have so few years left to be bound to that lamp, to the whims of a master. It's almost overwhelming."

Caroline squeezes his hands, in understanding. "Four years, huh? Not so bad, I guess."

Klaus grins, "And you seem far kinder, than any mistress I've had before. Perhaps my luck will hold, and once you're done with me my next will be nearly as lovely."

"Wait," Caroline says slowly, a thought occurring to her, "is there a time limit, on my wishes?"

"No, not at all. I once spent 60 years at the beck and call of one mistress, only to have her make her final wish on her deathbed."

"So… what if I just don't make mine, until like New Year's Eve 2019? And then your curse is done, and you're free."

Klaus avoids her gaze, and looks down, "That sounds… nearly idyllic, to me. But I would never presume to tell you how to use your wishes, Caroline. They are yours and you may use them as you see fit."

"Well, how about we see how it goes? Maybe you'll hate me and be dying for another person to boss you around in a couple of weeks."

"And maybe you'll decide you have no use for me, and send me away."

Ugh, god that was heartbreaking. "I have no interest in 'using' you Klaus," she tells him firmly, "People shouldn't use other people."

"Yet another sentiment that I am unfamiliar with," Klaus notes.

"Yeah. We'll have to work on that, I think. Just so you know I'm kind of a workaholic. And I'm super particular about how I like things around here. I'm an only child, so I can't help it. If you're going to stick around I expect you to pull your weight. Now, how about I show you to the guestroom?"

"I don't need a room, I have my lamp."

Caroline looks over at the thing skeptically, "Yeah, that doesn't look very comfortable to me. If you want to sleep in there, I'm not going to stop you. But the guest room is yours, for as long as you need it. And _want_ it."

Klaus brings her hands to his lips, presses a kiss, to each of her knuckles and murmurs, "I don't think it's possible for anyone to hate you, Caroline."

Caroline feels her cheeks heat, under the serious admiration he's sending her. She's not perfect, and he's looking at her like she's some kind of goddess. It will take a while, for him to get out of the habits he's made, over the course of his life as a genie. Because it's the 21st century, and consent is a thing that matters. But they'll work on that, work on preparing him to have a real life. And she still has so many questions.

But they've got years, from the sounds of it, to figure things out.

* * *

**Pockets Full Of Stones**

**(Last year, on **_**The Originals**_**, Davina was practicing something they called 'Earth Magic.' So I thought hmm, is there also 'Water Magic?' and then my brain went directly to mermaids. As is should. Title from What The Water Gave Me by Florence + the Machine. Rated K+.)**

When Klaus walks into his house, intent on locking himself away in his studio, all he wants is a glass of bourbon and some peace and quiet. Why ever had he thought taking back New Orleans was a good idea? And how had the various factions managed to survive so long, without burning the city to the ground? They were like squabbling children, for the most part, and it was a trial not to slaughter them all and start fresh.

Perhaps next week.

He knows his studio is occupied, before he even opens the door. He grits his teeth, resists the urge to crush the doorknob in his grasp. A little peace and quiet was just not something Klaus was going to get today, especially since the daggers were all the way on the other side of the house.

"Hello, Brother," Kol greets him, taking a swig out of the bottle in his hand. He's at Klaus' desk, dusty boots propped up on the edge, drinking 80 year old whiskey like it's water.

"Kol," Klaus returns evenly, "I thought you were in Greece."

"Yes, I gathered you were aware of my location, from the messengers you sent. I do hope that one bloke's arm grows back alright."

Klaus turns his back to his brother, so Kol won't be able to note how tightly Klaus' jaw is clenched, and decide to be even more aggravating. Klaus pours himself a large drink. He'll need it, now more than ever.

"I was told that you were antagonizing the witch population there and that I'd best collect you, lest they decide to put some effort into putting you down themselves."

Kol scoffs, "They're welcome to try. And I was not. Is it my fault that witches are prone to ridiculous fits of jealousy? How was I supposed to know that they were sisters?"

Klaus stalks over to the desk, shoving Kol's legs from it, leaning down to meet his brother's eyes, "I need The Naxos Coven, Kol. They're the only practitioners of their particular branch of magic who still thrive. Why can't you confine your carnal dalliances to any of the myriad of Earth Magic covens?"

"Because they're dull, Nik. Besides, it seems as though your pet Water Witches have been keeping something from you."

Kol's eyebrows rise mockingly, and Klaus straightens, anger flooding him, biting out, "Explain. Now."

But Kol's not intimidated, unfortunately. He drains the rest of his bottle, standing and making a show of brushing off his clothes.

"Kol," Klaus growls in warning, "do not test me. Not today."

"Keep your knickers on, Brother. This is something you need to _see_. Trust me."

Kol heads to the door, not looking back to see if Klaus is following. He does, reluctantly, because Kol's version of a surprise was rarely a good thing. Kol leads him downstairs, towards the back of the house, and outside into the late afternoon sunshine.

Kol waits for Klaus to come up beside him, smirking and gesturing to the swimming pool. "Don't say I never gave you anything, Nik."

It's only centuries of practice that prevent Klaus from expressing his shock.

Because there appears to be a mermaid, huddled in a corner at the far end of the pool.

She's nearly fully submerged, her eyes just above the surface of the water. They're narrowed, the cool blue of them scarcely visible to Klaus, alert and watchful and very, _very_ angry.

"Tasty little thing, isn't she?" Kol murmurs, watching Klaus' reactions carefully.

Klaus shoots his brother a glare, though he can't say he disagrees. She's lovely, from what he can see. Her thick blonde hair tumbles down her back, plaits of it woven together in intricate braids, threaded through with bits of silver and gold. The pale skin of her torso is covered by no garment, flawless, and at her hips scales of the palest blue begin, getting darker and shifting to greens down the length of her tail.

He's need days, and dozens of paints, to even begin to try to capture all of the colors.

"I'm told she can talk," Kol tells him, "but I have yet to see any evidence of an ability to make sounds other than snarls. She's a bit violent, too. Tore the throat out of one of the men on the ship, before we could subdue her."

Klaus is watching her, sees her smile at Kol's words, teeth pearly white, the incisors just a touch too sharp to pass for human. She understands exactly what Kol had just said, and Klaus would bet that she speaks just fine, and is merely picky about when she does so.

"I'll be having a little chat with our witch friends. Very soon. Because I assume their knowledge is not new, not something that simply slipped their minds?"

Kol throws his head back and laughs, "Hardly. Cassia, that was the first sister, had loose lips. They've known for centuries. Have a bit of a symbiotic relationship. The mermaid's scales add a certain kick to protective spells, their blood seems to work similarly to ours. Heals wounds and such. She even said you can use strands of hair in love potions, but I think that bit was drivel."

"And what do they," Klaus nods to the creature in the pool, "get in return?"

Kol reaches into his pocket, pulls out a bracelet. It's beaded, wood and shells and polished stones. Bloodstone, if Klaus isn't mistaken. Kol twirls it around his fingertip, and the mermaid's eyes follow it covetously. "They get these. Some nifty enchantments and they're not stuck in fish form all the time. Pulled it off of her so she couldn't run. She needs to stay near water, when she's like this. The legs are nearly as pretty as the tail."

Klaus plucks the bracelet from his brother's hand, studies it more closely, notes the symbols carved into the individual beads. He turns back to the girl, who's turned the full force of her attention to him. She's wary, like she senses that he's the bigger threat. It's fascinating, she's fascinating, to Klaus. It's been a very long time since he's discovered something new in this world.

He walks around the edge of the pool, and she tracks him, with her eyes, her body moving with just a flutter of her powerful tail.

He dangles the bracelet towards her, and she moves, quicker than he'd been expecting. Her fingers are slender, topped by lethal looking claws and Klaus only just manages to avoid having his forearm sliced open.

Her eyes blaze with anger. "That's mine," she tells him, her voice soft but imperious, edged in threat.

Klaus is hard pressed to keep from laughing, bad mood forgotten, because this day had just turned far more interesting. "And perhaps I'll give it back to you, love. In time." Klaus sinks down into a crouch, cautiously, resting on the balls of his feet, in case she tries to strike again. She can't kill him, but she likely doesn't know that, and she seems the sort to try. Klaus almost hopes she does, so he can learn more about the things that she is capable of. "Now," he coaxes her, smiling genially, "tell me your name."


	19. klarolineauweek1: Bonus Day

**Notes:** For the klarolineauweek Bonus Day!

Of Two Kinds – Part Two

**(The second part of The Walking Dead inspired drabble. First part found in the second half of chapter 16. Smut)**

Caroline glares at him, gritting her teeth at the sight of Klaus on the couch, his posture relaxed. She's never invited him inside, not that it was necessary. The need for invitations had faded, vampires able to enter homes freely. Caroline hopes it's because the houses have been abandoned, not because the owners are all dead. Her mom and Bonnie remain wary of The Originals, and strictly anti-Klaus, which is why he's never been over. But Klaus, of course, isn't the kind of guy to let a little thing like that stop him from making himself comfortable.

She toes off her boots, careful to keep them on the plastic tray by the door, because she doesn't want to track bits of rotting flesh onto the carpet. She debates ignoring Klaus, walking past him and making a beeline for the shower, but Caroline doesn't trust him not to follow her. And she has such a hard time remembering why she's mad at him, when they're both naked.

She addresses him, not bothering to mask her aggravation, "If my mom finds you here, she _will_ shoot you, you know."

Klaus appears unconcerned, "Wouldn't be the first time I've been shot."

"As unsurprising as that is, I don't really want to clean up the mess. And getting shot in the head hurts like a bitch." Experiencing that once was more than enough for Caroline, and she wouldn't wish it on Klaus, even if he is a pain in her ass.

His head tips to the side, a hint of anger tightening his features, "And just how would _you_ know that, love?"

"Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago."

"You will tell me that story, someday," Klaus says, sounding sure. "But, you needn't worry about your mother shooting me. She's having lunch with that military chap who wandered in a few weeks ago. He's quite smitten, I think. And Bonnie's set to meet up with Davina this afternoon, to work on some magic matter they're playing around with. We have the run of the house."

Caroline narrows her eyes, finding those circumstances a little too convenient to be natural. "Did you compel my mom a date?"

Klaus adopts an innocent expression, "I believe you underestimate your mother's charms."

"First of all, gross. Second," Caroline's voice rises, preparing to rip into him.

Klaus cuts her off, "No compulsion was used, I promise. But a little gentle encouragement, when I overheard him asking about your mother's marital status, might have been doled out."

Caroline studies him, for a few seconds, before she decides that she believes him. "Alright fine. I'm going to have to have a talk with him, I guess."

Because if anyone thought they could mess with her mother, Caroline would quickly set them straight.

"Mmm. I almost pity the man."

Caroline smiles at that, because she's always appreciated Klaus' easy confidence in her abilities, even if she was sometimes amazed by it. But she catches herself, remembering that she's pissed off, turning away to hide her face and shrugging off her sweater. She makes a note to bring it over to Mrs. Miller to see if it can be saved.

She's learned not to waste things.

Caroline realizes baring her shoulder is a mistake, only it's too late. She sucks in a breath, suddenly feeling Klaus behind her, one hand on her upper arm, the other on her neck, keeping her in place.

"What happened?" he demands, leaning in to examine where she's been bitten.

She tries to shake him off, but his hands remain firm. Caroline curses her carelessness. "I screwed up, lost my weapon. One of them bit me, but I'll be fine."

Klaus lets out a low, angry noise, "I knew I should have brought the daggers from New Orleans."

"It wasn't Kol's fault. It was mine," Caroline tells him angrily. "Dial down to chest beating, alpha male crap, alright?"

"You need blood," Klaus says, easily brushing aside the rest of her statement.

"I need a shower," Caroline counters, annoyed. Because she feels disgusting, and the ache in her shoulder is nowhere near the worst pain she's ever felt.

Klaus leans into her, so the length of his front is pressed against her back, brushes his mouth over the nape of her neck, "Whoever said you couldn't have both?" he murmurs suggestively.

Caroline grits her teeth. Because it's tempting, to relax into him and luxuriate in his strength for a little while. To drag him upstairs, to pull off their clothes and let him touch her under the hot spray of the water, to sink her fangs into his skin and drink from him.

Klaus tastes so much better than anything that comes out of a plastic bag, and she's never come harder than she does with his blood on her tongue.

But giving in will only make him think that he's won, and Caroline refuses to allow that.

They're going to widen their perimeter, and they're going to double their population, whether he likes it or not.

The Originals have had a tough time, with some aspects of the new world. Humans, so abundant before, their lives seemingly insignificant and disposable, were now in short supply. They'd not often dealt with them as equals. Having to work, side by side, with a species he considered lesser was an adjustment, for Klaus. Caroline suspects that, had things been different, and had she and her friends not been around, he and his siblings would have set up a far more sinister system, used compulsion more liberally, and not put nearly the effort into morale that Caroline tried to.

Adding more humans was not an idea Klaus' liked, and his paranoia – that a witch or a werewolf or an enemy could slip in – had led to him attempting to outright reject Caroline's proposal, without even a discussion.

And she hadn't taken that well.

Caroline pulls away from him roughly, and his hands fall from her body, "No, Klaus. I'm going to shower. Alone. If you want to stick around we can fight after. I'm sure it'll be super fun."

Caroline doesn't look back at him, as she mounts the stairs, not even to acknowledge him, or his innuendo laden tone, when he calls, "I look forward to continuing our chat, Caroline."

* * *

She takes her time, after her shower, combing out her hair, applying lotion (the Bath and Body Works in the nearest mall had been almost entirely passed over by looters. Their loss, Her gain).

Caroline's procrastinating, psyching herself up, for dealing with Klaus.

Caroline kind of wants to curse herself, for ever beginning to screw around with him, but she really doesn't regret it. There'd always been very clear lines between them, back when she'd been in high school, and he'd been terrorizing her friends. It's sometimes hard for Caroline to adjust to the idea that they're on the same side. Adding sex to the equation muddies the waters even more.

The thing they have is undefined, and she knows that it's all because of her. People know, that they're having sex, because it would be impossible not to, given the tiny community they inhabit.

Certain friends of Caroline's only barely manage to keep their judginess to themselves, and only because they're under the impression that it's just a physical thing, just Caroline having hot hybrid sex, in order to avoid going crazy under the weight of her responsibilities and being overwhelmed with uncertainties.

They accept it, grudgingly, because no one wants to deal with an unhinged Caroline Forbes.

Caroline keeps a careful distance, between her and Klaus, in public. She allows herself no affectionate gestures, no secret smiles or tender looks.

It's become harder and harder, as time has passed. And as their private moments have shifted and deepened.

It really had been just sex, in the beginning, of the fast and rough variety. The first time it had happened they'd been on patrol, bickering. Caroline doesn't even remember what about. She'd thrown up her hands, and stormed away, spitting profanities. He'd followed her, goading her.

And the next thing Caroline knew she'd snapped, shoved him into a narrow gap between two unused houses, and pressed her mouth over his, determined to get him to just stop _talking_.

It had worked, for several hot minutes, his lips parting under her onslaught. He'd moaned when she'd used her teeth, let Caroline tear his belt away and work her hand around his cock, running his hands over her body.

And when she'd pulled back, to watch his face twist in pleasure at her touch, he must have read something on her face. Maybe he saw some of the triumph Caroline had felt at having him writhing in her hands, because his expression had hardened, and he'd reversed their positions. And then he'd turned her, so quickly she'd barely had time to bring her hands up to catch herself on the rough brick.

Klaus' hand was in her jeans, his fingers buried inside of her, and his palm grinding against her clit, before she could take another breath.

She'd had to lean against the wall for support, her knees shaking, as he stroked her, fast and rough hitting spots inside of her that made shudder.

He'd started to talk then, voice gravelly in her ear. And Caroline had forgotten why she hadn't wanted him to. He'd spun filthy fantasies for her, spoke of how much he wanted her, how good she felt, hot and soaking around his fingers, how he couldn't wait to feel her wrapped around his cock.

She'd bitten down on the back of her forearm, to prevent from crying out. Bitten harder, breaking the skin, when he'd shoved her jeans down, tilted her hips, and thrust inside of her.

He'd pulled her head back, his hand on her throat a demand that she turn her head, and he'd licked her blood off of her mouth, before he'd set a harsh pace that had Caroline quivering and fighting not to beg for more.

That's how it had started.

They'd had a few other trysts, frantic and semi-public, in the following days, before he'd managed to coax her indoors. They'd tried out several surfaces in the house Klaus had taken possession of, and each time Caroline had righted her clothes and left, before her heart rate had even slowed back to a normal rhythm.

And then they'd finally made it to a bed, and Klaus had insisted on removing every stich of her clothing and had seemed to make it his mission to make leaving very, very difficult for her.

Caroline only snaps out of the memories, when she hears him downstairs, moving about. He's getting impatient, Caroline knows, because he's capable of being perfectly silent, and is only loud when he requires attention.

Her little walk down memory lane has left her nipples hard and her core uncomfortably damp. Awkward, since she knows there's no way Klaus won't notice.

Caroline braids her hair, pulls on a thick sweatshirt, before slowly making her way downstairs.

Klaus has produced a bottle of wine, from where Caroline has no idea, and he sits at the dining room table, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, chair tipped slightly backwards.

His eyebrows lift, his eyes raking down her body, "You smell incredible, love. Penny for your thoughts?"

"Like you have a penny," she retorts, taking the chair opposite him, careful not to touch him.

His jaw clenches, irritation chasing away the heat that had entered his gaze.

Klaus resents the careful distance, the boundaries she sets. He becomes more biting, when she pushes him away, his temper, never exactly even, flares hotter and more unexpectedly.

And his lack of patience with the limits she imposes has only grown.

It's not just fucking, what they do, and Caroline knows it, even if she refuses to acknowledge it.

She's long since stopped resisting the urge to stay with him, after they're both sated. Has spent more nights in his bed than in hers lately. She talks to him, under the cover of darkness, picks his brain when there are things she needs to work out. Draws comfort from his certainty that this is not the end of the world, just a hiccup, like others that had happened before.

But explaining that to her mother, to Elena, is something that Caroline has no idea how to tackle. So she just doesn't try. She suspects it hurts him, more than he'd ever let himself admit.

He pushes a wineglass towards her. Caroline accepts it, taking a sip, gets right to the point, "Getting me drunk isn't going to get me to change my mind, Klaus. We need to let more people in."

"We're perfectly fine," he argues, "with what we have now. Between those who already live here, and the blood we take from the unsavory characters floating around. There's no need to open ourselves up to risks."

"The 'unsavoury characters'" Caroline counters, repeating his words mockingly, "are fewer and farther between. And some people have expressed interest in being turned. Once that happens we have less blood and more need for it."

"Simple solution. Merely forbid them from being turned."

She shakes her head immediately, "No. Why would I do that? People should get a choice, Klaus. And more vampires makes us stronger, as a group."

He narrows his eyes, leaning back, "And what if another vampire slips in? A witch? We've survived, thanks to our enhanced abilities. It's only logical that others have as well."

"So? What are they going to do? I don't understand why you care, Klaus. You're unkillable, remember?"

"You cannot be this oblivious, Caroline," Klaus leans forward, frustration bleeding into his tone.

"Excuse me?" she asks, setting her wine down, barely noticing that it sloshes out with her force. "That sounded an awful lot like you were calling me stupid, Klaus."

"I most certainly did not. I'm not about to apologize for telling you the truth. You're so afraid of what you're little friends will think of you, so convinced that I'm the monster they say I am, that it doesn't even occur to you that I care because _you_ can be killed. Far more easily than I'd like. You're injured right now, love."

"It's nothing, Klaus. I was a little careless."

Klaus hand slaps down on the table, and it shifts several inches, "A little careless can get you killed. And then what do you think I would do, Caroline?"

Her next words are flippant, "Well, I'd be dead, so I don't think I'd have much say, would I?" Caroline drains the rest of her wine in one gulp, holding Klaus' eyes.

They darken, yellow bleeding into the edges. Klaus next words are deceptively soft, sharp edged in a way that tells her to tread carefully, "That's not something you joke about, sweetheart. Not with me."

"What are you going to do, Klaus?" Caroline taunts, standing and leaning forward. "How are you going to control me? I'm not on vervain. Do you want to compel me? Are you going to threaten my mother? Bite me again? Let suffer while I think about what I've done?"

She's yelling, at the end, angry and frustrated. Caroline really hopes her neighbours aren't around.

He smiles, shakes his head, remains seated, his temper fading in the face of hers, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Like it if I confirmed all the reasons you're scared to tell your little friends about me and the things I make you feel."

Caroline's hands curl around the edge of the table, so hard she's surprised it doesn't splinter.

"I don't…"

He cuts of the denial she's not even sure she would have managed to make, "Don't bother lying to me, love. I rather think you do enough of that, don't you?"

It's just like the first time, then. Something in Caroline's brain short circuits, logic and reason and control beyond her grasp as she lunges for him, coming around the table and straddling him in his chair. He doesn't allow her the upper hand this time, not for a moment. He stands, grabbing her hips and setting her down on the table, pinning her hands behind her.

Klaus pauses, squeezes her wrists firmly, once, "Keep them there," he tells her darkly.

He waits, until she nods, then pulls the elastic out of her braid, running his hands through her hair. Caroline leans back, pressing her weight onto her palms, trying to resist grabbing at him.

He rests his hands on her knees, and Caroline parts her thighs, before he even applies a hint of pressure, her earlier arousal ramped back up, by the way he's watching her, by the promise in his eyes when he'd issued his order.

His lips part, his tongue running along the lower. "So wonderfully eager for me, Caroline. Are you wet, already? Will my fingers slip inside of you easily?"

She pushes herself forward, until she's right at the edge of the table, "Feel free to find out."

A sly grin crosses Klaus' face, and then he's pulling down her leggings, hooking his fingers into her panties so they come down too.

He bends and kisses her thigh, scrapes his teeth along the delicate skin. The sting sends another jolt of heat through her, her hips shifting restlessly.

Klaus stands, and Caroline bites the inside of her cheek, to stop herself from complaining, "Shirt off," he demands next.

"Thought I wasn't supposed to move my hands?" Caroline retorts, but she moves to pull it off anyway.

"Changed my mind," Klaus replies, his eyes on her bare torso. "I decided that you could put them to better use. I want you to touch your breasts for me."

Caroline shivers, moves to clench her thighs together, but Klaus makes a soft, chiding noise, his hands on her knees, stroking the backs, and holding them apart. "No, Caroline. Put your hands on your nipples. Pinch them. I want them swollen and aching and I want to watch you drip onto this table."

Her stomach clenches, at the dirty words, and her head drops back, and she moans, even as her hands smooth up her ribcage, cupping her breasts. Caroline watches Klaus as he watches her. She likes the clench of his jaw, likes the way his fingers bite into her skin, the way the veins in her forearms stand out. He's not nearly as in control as he wants to believe he is, and she wants him to let go.

He drops his head, presses his mouth to her neck. Caroline tilts her head to the side, giving him more room. He pulls another moan from her, when he sucks hard at the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder. "Bite me," she pleads, without meaning to do so, her fingers moving faster, rolling her nipples in search of some relief.

She thinks he'll deny her, sure that he's got a larger plan here. So it's a shock, when his fangs dig in, when his hand slides up her thigh, finding her clit and rubbing hard.

Caroline gasps, his name spilling out of her mouth. She can move her leg now, and she wraps it around his hip, her toes digging into the back of his thigh, urging him closer. He sinks two fingers inside of her and she arches her back, desperate for friction. But Klaus stills, and stops drinking, removing any pressure on her clit, his hand unmoving inside of her.

Caroline whimpers, high pitched and desperate, clenching around him. "I want you to admit it," he tells her, low and forceful, fangs out and eyes blazing gold. "Just to me, for now. Admit that you want me, and you can come all over my hand. And then you're going to lie back on this table and you'll come on my tongue. Then I'm going to take you upstairs."

"Klaus," Caroline pants, her mind reeling, her body screaming at her to just say the words. "You can't just…"

He leans in, brushing his mouth over hers, unexpectedly tender, "Just to me," he repeats softly.

He's not sure she'll do it, Caroline thinks. He looks almost uncertain, looking into her eyes, searching for something. He's braced for her to reject him, to push him away and leave. That's the thing that makes Caroline give in, to her body's demands. It's a small admission, what he's asking of her. And she _does_ want him.

Caroline takes a deep breath, barely recognizes the hoarse scratch of her voice, "I want you," she manages. "Make me come."

His fingers scissor inside of her, stretching her muscles in a way that makes her groan, and his thumb circles her clit, swiping over it at random intervals that leave her thighs tensed in anticipation of the sweet sparks of pleasure the direct contact sends shooting through her. He lets her move, lets her push against his fingers, and the climb is quick and incredible, every muscle in her body striving for a release.

He pulls her head to his throat, his issues on last demand, "Drink when you come for me, Caroline."

It's one she's happy to obey, tearing through his skin with a moan.

She clings to him, as she rides the waves of her orgasm, taking greedy sips of his blood. And then as soon as she releases him, he's dropping to his knees, his voice low and guttural as he tells her to lie back.

He keeps his promise to her, as she'd known he would.

And when he flashes them to her room, her hands are shaky and forceful, tearing his clothes from his body, wanting him inside of her, her need for him not satisfied, despite the two orgasms he'd already pulled from her.

She says his name, like it's the only thing she knows, as he works his cock inside of her, as he plays with her nipples and tells her she's beautiful and incredible, and that he wants her.

And afterwards, when she's catching her breath, draped across him, when he murmurs something about how he should go, before her mom gets home Caroline shakes her head, presses him down. Tells him she'll lock the door if they hear someone come in.

His eyes widen, and he smiles softly, before he relaxes underneath her, his hand coming up to trace patterns down her spine.

It's not a declaration and Caroline thinks it will be awhile before she's ready for anything like that.

But one day she will be.

**Oh How Strange – Part Two**

**(The continuing adventures of Caroline and werewolfpuppy!Klaus. Part One is the third drabble in chapter 11. Rated K+.)**

Caroline decided to send Enzo home - he was a fly by the seat of his pants kind of guy and he'd just get in the way of her serious plotting. He hadn't wanted to leave, but Caroline had insisted, physically yanking him out of the dining room chair and waving Klaus away when he tried to follow, "Klaus, stay."

That earned her a growl, and she threw him an apologetic look. "Yeah, that was rude. Sorry."

Caroline hauled Enzo towards the door, despite his reluctance, "Seriously, Enzo," Caroline assured him, "plausible deniability is a good thing here. Take my word for it. Rebekah Mikaelson? Heinous, sadistic bitch. Her only redeeming quality is her killer taste in shoes."

"That's not very nice, Caroline."

"She's 1000 years old. I'm pretty sure she invented some of the torture techniques those Augustine weirdos used on you. Probably perfected them on the guy who refused to kiss her ring, or whatever. And The Original's never throw anything out. I don't even want to know what kind of creepy implements of pain and misery they have lying around"

If anything, that seemed to intrigue Enzo even more. Which was super gross, and not something Caroline wanted to think about.

"She sounds delightful, truly."

"I swear to god, Enzo," Caroline says, shooting him a hard look, "if Rebekah has long distance hypnotized you into doing her bidding I will kill you before she can."

"Nonsense, Gorgeous," Enzo replies, looking at her like she'd said something ridiculous. "You know I'm always on your side."

Caroline paused in front of her door, nodding in agreement and appreciation, "'Cause my side's the right side, duh."

Enzo chuckled. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders affectionately, "Right, you'll call me if you need anything? Dog sitter, road trip buddy, help with body disposal?"

Caroline mustered a smile, "Will do. Just… don't say anything to anyone, okay? Especially not to Damon. You weren't around, but he was concocting terrible 'Let's Kill Klaus!' plans. For a solid two years. I don't trust him not to jump on this, and I really don't want to be the one to explain to Elena that her boyfriend got himself brutally murdered for being an idiot, you know?"

"Oh, well if it's for Elena," Enzo drawled sarcastically.

Caroline rolled her eyes, unwilling to defend Elena for the umpteenth time. It was pointless, as Enzo's opinion was set, and privately she could admit that he wasn't exactly wrong, about some of her friend's less than stellar qualities. He didn't have the lifetime of memories, to color his perspective, that Caroline did. "And for me," she reminded him.

He softened slightly, giving her a nod, before leaving. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. That was as good as a promise, from Enzo. And she trusted him not to break it.

Klaus, pacing along the edge of her table, probably didn't share her faith.

Which was just too damn bad. Because Caroline was pretty sure that, as the only member of the team currently in possession of opposable thumbs, she was automatically the captain.

She leaned back against the closed door, considering her next move. Klaus eyed her, his agitation evident in his bared teeth and the way his gaze never left her, even as he continued his restless movements.

Caroline totally got that Klaus was a control freak, to an insane degree, and that this situation must be incredibly difficult for him. Just the thought of being in his shoes made her shudder, and she wasn't even a fraction as paranoid. Not to mention, Klaus kind of loved to throw around the "I'm the Big Bad Hybrid, Fear Me!" card and that wasn't exactly an option, at the moment.

Because he was tiny and fluffy and adorable and not the least bit intimidating. That had to be humiliating.

He'd trusted her, with this. Trusted that she'd be willing to help him. It was kind of a huge deal.

Caroline was almost afraid to consider the implications of that. To think about what it said about the way he felt about her, even after she'd asked for time and distance.

Klaus was clearly growing impatient with her silence, her lack of action, and he let out a sharp bark. Caroline pushed off the door, shushing him, "I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to have pets so if you could _not_ do that I would appreciate it."

He growls softly and Caroline rolls her eyes, "Yes, I know. You're not a pet. But I can't exactly say, 'Hey, here's my old friend Klaus! He's usually taller, and a little more man shaped, so don't kick me out because I'm totally not actually breaking my lease agreement' without freaking people out. I do not want to be known as the crazy lady in 4B."

Klaus had settled down, at some point during her ramble, stretching his body out and resting his head on his paws. Caroline sat down once more, setting the notepad in front of her, and picking up her pen. She tapped it on the table a few times, biting her lip and trying to think of a way to phrase her next question delicately. But then she decided that there really wasn't a way to do so, and wasn't it a good thing that Klaus had always found her bluntness more charming than irritating?

"So…" Caroline draws out the word, and Klaus head tips to the side, so she rushes out the rest, "just to clarify. You're totally, you know, _you_, in there? I don't have to worry about you peeing on the carpet or eating my shoes?"

Caroline's pretty sure from the way his head lifts, and how he manages to look almost mortally offended, that he's 100% Klaus under the fur. She holds up her hands, a placating gesture, "Just checking, geez."

He still looks miffed, which is pretty impressive, in Caroline's opinion. She sighs, decides to try to smooth things over. "Okay. So despite the fact that talking to you like this is really, really creepy and awkward, I recognize that you have way more experience with this whole tracking down your enemies thing. So I might as well make use of your brain. Since you claim it's in working order."

He perks up, hopping to his feet, tail wagging slightly.

It's a struggle not to react, because it's freaking adorable and she kind of wants to snuggle him. But she suspects that Klaus would not be cool with that.

Or he would and it would be weird. He's been surprisingly into post coital cuddling, even though they'd done it on the forest floor.

But that thought is not even the tiniest bit helpful, right now.

Caroline rips a piece of paper out of her notebook, writes out 'YES' and 'NO' in large print, darkening the letters, and then spacing the pages a foot or so apart on the table. Can he read like this? Caroline's not sure, and she doesn't want to ask him, given his previous reaction. So she just taps them pointedly as she speaks, "I'm going to ask you questions. Touch this one for yes, and this one for no, and let's start to work this mess out, okay?"

He moves to the one she'd indicated for 'Yes' setting his two front paws on the paper and looking up at her expectantly.

Caroline cracks a smile, shakes her head, picks up her pen again, trying to think decide the best place to start.

And maybe it's a struggle, to focus on the situation at hand. Usually, she prides herself on her ability to focus during a crisis, to compartmentalize, and do what she needs to. But now, her mind keeps wandering. Because while this is a situation that needs a solution, and she is determined that she'll find it, it's (for once) not life or death.

Klaus is here, but he's not. And Caroline finds it hard to ignore the not so small part of her that really, really misses the sound of his voice.

* * *

She and Klaus have managed to work out a rough plan for the next three days (Day One: supplies and logistics, Day Two: travel, Day Three: tracking a witch) when there's a groan from behind Caroline on the couch.

Right. She'd totally forgotten about her guest. Klaus is looking past her, but he doesn't seem agitated, so Caroline relaxes. He obviously doesn't consider the younger vampire a threat, so she spins in her chair, pasting on what she hopes is a welcoming smile, "Hi. Josh, right? I'm Caroline. Sorry about the neck snapping. Did you want a blood bag?"

He rises from the couch, stretching out his arms. He opens his mouth to reply, but his eyes drift past her and he immediately snaps it shut. "Uh, no. I'm good."

Caroline turns her head to look at Klaus suspiciously. It seems impossible to her, that he's capable of intimidating anyone right now, but she swears it's him that's making Josh uneasy.

"Are you sure? It's no trouble. And I feel kind of bad that you ended up temporarily dead, when you were only doing Klaus a favor. My friend Enzo's not really a big fan of strangers."

Josh's eyes widen at the word favor, an incredulous look crossing his face.

Caroline glances at Klaus again, putting the pieces together, "Not a favor? Come on. I thought the whole hybrid debacle would have been a wakeup call, about how the care and feeding of your minions. I guess not."

"Not a big fan of the word minion," Josh mutters.

"Who's Rebekah holding hostage?" Caroline asks knowingly.

"No one," Josh denies, "I'm only here under threats of my own excruciatingly death. One hybrid bite is more than enough for me."

Caroline can relate to _that_ feeling. "Ugh, tell me about it. I've had two."

Klaus nudges her elbow with his nose, and Caroline stiffens, moving her arm away.

Scratch missing the sound of his voice. Because she's pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to resist pointing out that she had, in fact, been bitten more than twice.

She'd voluntarily had his teeth in her thigh, and in her throat, that day in the woods. And excruciating death had been the last thing one her mind.

And Klaus knew it, too.

Caroline gets up, going into the kitchen and pulling two blood bags out of her crisper. She tosses one at Josh. He catches it neatly, once again looking uncertainly at Klaus.

"Ignore him," Caroline instructs. "He's been told that if he bites anyone on my watch my willingness to help him will become nonexistent. You're safe."

Josh hesitates, for another few seconds, before he opens the bag and takes a sip. "Thank you," he says politely, once nearly half of it is gone.

"You're welcome. Can I ask how you're getting home?"

He'd driven here, she knows. And according to Rebekah, the vehicle he'd driven from New Orleans is now at her disposal. And Caroline's almost certain that, after forcing the poor guy to do their bidding, neither Rebekah nor Klaus would have spared a thought for his safe return home.

A long suffering expression crosses Josh' face, telling her that she's correct in her assumptions. "I think I'm going to need directions to the nearest bus station."

Caroline throws Klaus an unimpressed look, "No need. I'll drive you to the airport. Klaus will pay for your ticket. First class."

If Klaus _could_ roll his eyes at her, he totally would. But he's the one who gave her free rein with his credit card, so really it's his own fault.

* * *

It's nearly midnight, when they get home from the airport, and Caroline sets the tote bag she'd used as a makeshift carrier for Klaus down. He had not been happy, when she'd produced it, snarling and going rigid when she'd tried to put him into it. But Caroline really didn't want to get kicked out of her apartment. She'd offered to let Klaus stay behind, but he'd refused, and had sat between her and Josh in the front seat of his SUV.

She's not entirely sure why, because through her conversation with the guy she'd gathered that Josh was a younger vampire than she was, and didn't seem to have a single speck of ruthlessness in him. Plus, he'd been pretty cute, talking about his boyfriend, so Klaus couldn't be jealous.

Caroline wishes he could just _tell_ her what he's thinking and she's back to missing his voice.

Klaus wriggles out of the tote bag, but he doesn't go far. He lets out a yawn and lies down on it, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Caroline debates just letting him sleep there, because he looks comfortable enough. But her feet are glued to the floor, refusing to let her walk away.

"You are such a sucker, Caroline Forbes," she mutters to herself, before she bends and scoops Klaus up. He presses his nose to her neck, letting out a soft, tired, noise. Entering her room, she sets him on her bed. She takes a step back, pointing down at him, "Do not get any ideas. This is just for a minute. You're totally sleeping on the floor."

His tail beats against the mattress half-heartedly for a moment, and Caroline takes that as his agreement to her terms.

Which turns out to be a mistake.

The next morning Caroline wakes up with his small form curled into her side, despite the nest of blankets and cushions she'd painstakingly set up for him to sleep in.

His eyes crack open when she moves, the blue of them wary, like he expects to be scolded. But Caroline's still tired, and if there's one thing she's learned, in her dealings with Klaus, it's to pick her battles.

And it's probably less dangerous, to have him in her bed now, than to have him there when he's himself, isn't it?

So she rolls over, buries herself under her quilt, feels him settle down next to her. The absurdity of the situation, hits her again, all at once, and she starts to laugh, trying to muffle the sounds in her pillow. But he must feel it, because he picks his way around her, his slight weight barely shaking the mattress. He nudges her with his head, until she looks at him, sitting down next to her pillow. "I'm sorry. It's just, bet this is the last way you imagined getting into my bed, huh?"

Klaus does not appear to share her amusement. Caroline's pretty sure she's never seen an animal's face look quite so disgusted.

And she might be a terrible person, but it only makes her laugh harder.


	20. Catch Me If You Can

**Notes:** This one was for a klarolinegivesback donor! Money is being raised until November 9th and several excellent drabbles have already been posted on Tumblr! Check it out. A million thanks to Sophie for the beta help, and Ravyn for the title!

**Catch Me If You Can**

**(For unwillingsuspensionofdisbelief. Prompt: Klaroline as grifters with smut.)**

Eye contact. Shy glance down. Lift eyes, bite lip, smile shyly.

Hook, line, sinker.

The attractive older gentleman, in a very well cut suit, that Caroline had been making eyes at (because she hadn't paid for her own drink in _years, _and hardly thought now was the time to start, despite the fact that she was currently well funded and technically on vacation). She's sneaking glances at the man as he approaches, trying to look nervously pleased at his attentions, when Katherine is suddenly at her back, muttering urgently in her ear, "Look alive, sunshine. We've got a baby Mikaelson at five o'clock. No sign of the rest of the herd. Yet."

Caroline tensed, taking a sip of her drink, and flipping her hair over her shoulder, throwing a casual glance behind her, to where Kat had indicated.

Only to have Kol Mikaelson grin and wiggle his eyebrows as her, lifting his glass in a mock toast.

Ugh. At least it wasn't Rebekah. Or, even worse, Klaus.

But come on. What were the odds that any of them would happen to be in this particular bar, at this particular moment?

London was huge, a big part of the reason she and Kat had agreed on staying there for a couple of months, while they plotted out a new long con. They needed a little anonymity. Their last job had been the most fruitful yet, but had gained them a little too much publicity.

Not a good thing, in their particular line of work.

They'd figured the fact that American football was significantly less popular here, plus Caroline ditching the straight red hair and fitted, dark wardrobe she'd adopted as Carrie Stevens, would limit the possibility of them gaining any attention.

Carrie's divorce three months into her marriage to Miami Dolphins defensive end Matt Donovan, amidst all sorts of rumors of infidelity with his live in Bulgarian maid, had made a splash in the press. Her face, tear stained and wan, climbing into the back of a limo after the final hearing had made gossip and sports blogs alike.

Bless those drama classes she'd taken at Whitmore. Because being granted a one million dollar payout, plus the very nice white Maserati Matt had gifted her at the wedding, wasn't really something to cry about, in Caroline's opinion.

But she'd had to look heartbroken, and pathetic, like the big bad pro athlete had crushed her.

Fat chance. Matt was sweet and bland. A little dim and a lot naive. He'd been such an easy mark that Caroline had _almost_ felt bad, about conning him. But, in the grand scheme of things, he'd make back the money in a couple of months. And he _had_ fallen into Katherine's trap.

Maybe maid outfits were a kink he hadn't been aware he'd had.

Or the fact that Kat could probably seduce a priest, if she put a little work into it.

Caroline's seriously considering throwing some cash on the bar, and bolting, breaking her streak and wasting a solid five minutes of excellent flirting. Because Kat was right. Where you found one Mikaelson, the rest weren't usually too far behind.

And there were certain siblings that she just did _not_ want to deal with.

Okay, fine. Mostly just Klaus. She didn't really _like_ Rebekah, but the other girl was reasonably amusing to annoy.

She had no beef with Kol, and Elijah was a good ally (had even used his plethora of suits to good effect, posing as her lawyer, and negotiating her divorce). And technically she'd never met the oldest two. Had heard rumors that they hadn't followed the same career path as the rest of the Mikaelsons.

And by 'rumors' she meant the things Kat had gleaned from Elijah, during their occasional hook ups.

She took those with a grain of salt, however. Kat had never even told Elijah her real name, so it was entirely possible that he was lying to her about personal things too.

Caroline turns to Kat, about to suggest that they make a break for it, and maybe give this area of town a wide berth, but Kat's not looking at her, but behind her, her expression resigned.

A second later, Caroline understands why.

"Fancy meeting you here, love."

Caroline closes her eyes briefly, lets a few mental curses fly, before she pulls away from the warmth at her back, pasting on a confused expression.

She hasn't seen Klaus in more than a year, since they'd run into each other in Chicago, and it's a struggle not to let her eyes wander down his body, looking for any changes. "Do I know you?" she asks, easing back a step, widening the distance between them.

Klaus smirks, "Oh, come now. Don't be shy, sweetheart. I couldn't forget you if I tried. It's not every day a man's treated to the shag of his life in the bathroom of a bar, you know."

Kat grabs her forearm, nails digging in.

Yeah, this was definitely not the way she'd wanted Kat to find out about that particular incident. Kat knows about the first time she'd slept with Klaus, but Caroline might have glossed over the frequency with which she'd repeated the act.

Klaus had not made any attempt to keep his voice down, and several people nearby (including Mr. Bespoke Suit and Bvlgari briefcase) look over at them with interest. Her mark makes a face, casts her a judgemental and incredibly uncalled for (since he was old enough to be her dad, and had been about to hit on her) look, before he goes back to his table.

Caroline so hated to waste her time. But maybe she shouldn't have gone for sweetly wide-eyed ingénue.

Struggling to keep her voice even, Caroline tells him, "I think you have the wrong girl, dude."

Klaus leans in, his lips just brushing her ear, "Would you like me to describe the birthmark on your inner thigh? I remember it well. Have spent quite a bit of time, tracing it with my tongue."

Caroline shoves him away, making a disgusted noise. She fumbles for her bag, pulls out a twenty pound note, to cover the fries she'd ordered, tossing it on the bar.

Kat's hot on her heels, no doubt gearing up for a lecture on mixing business with pleasure. But then Elijah appears, at Kat's side. He nods at Caroline, placing a hand on Kat's lower back. And then Kol's right there, next to Klaus, boxing them in.

Some women might be thrilled to be surrounded by a wall of Mikaelsons, and Caroline could admit that they were very all very attractive, but she really just wanted them to go away. She exchanges an irritated look with Katherine, knowing she has to remain calm, and not make a scene.

They were supposed to be laying low. Starting a bar brawl, which could very well be filmed and end up on YouTube, was out of the question.

Kol throws his arm around Klaus' shoulder, "Never mind my big brothers, my darlings. It's unfortunate, but they're nowhere near as charming as I am. How about we buy you ladies a drink, and discuss some business?"

Giving up the dumb blonde shtick, Caroline shakes her head, "We're not here to do business. We're here on vacation."

"And we work alone," Kat adds, putting one hand on her hip, eyes locked defiantly with Elijah's.

"I'm certain I played a very important part in your most recent job," he counters.

"For which you were paid, according to our agreement," Kat shoots back snidely. "Think of yourself as an employee. A low level one."

Kol chuckles, "I like this one, Elijah. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. And I don't plan to. A girl needs to keep a secret or two."

Elijah leans in, his voice dropping, "Few keep as many as you do, Katerina."

The brunette freezes, and Caroline's eyes go wide. As far as Caroline knew, she was the only person who knew Kat's birth name.

Elijah must have phenomenal contacts.

Or, he was just more underhanded than Caroline had ever given him credit for. She couldn't help but narrow her eyes at him suspiciously, "How'd you find us anyway, Elijah?"

He looks fleetingly guilty and Caroline's anger intensifies, "You hacked my account, didn't you? That's low."

Maybe they were criminals, technically speaking. But would a certain level of honor be too much to expect? She could understand it if she'd tried to stiff him, but his 100 grand had been promptly delivered. In full and in cash.

Caroline didn't like debts.

And she needed to give Bonnie, the computer whiz who handled the tech, a call immediately. They needed to tighten things up, if Elijah had someone who could breach their security.

Because Caroline also didn't like to make the same mistake twice.

Even though she totally did it, sometimes. Case in point, Klaus Mikaelson. Who was taking her elbow, and gently steering her towards a booth in the back corner.

"Don't be angry, love. At Elijah, I mean. It took plenty of persuading, to convince him to tag your settlement money."

Turning her head to look at him, Caroline's tone drips disdain, "Oh? Should I be angry at you then?"

A smile curls Klaus' lips, and his fingers trace down her arm, "If you'd like. We've had a great deal of fun, working out your temper in the past, have we not?"

"Shut up," Caroline snaps, sitting down and sliding across the leather seat.

He follows her in, all over her personal space. Leaning in once more, she feels his amused hum against her skin, and it echoes down her spine, "Are you sure? I seem to remember you like it when I talk to you."

His hand drops down, tracing over her bare leg, inching up along her inner thigh.

Caroline slaps his hand away with a glare, turning her attention to Kol, who's begun speaking, "As entertaining as I find all this simmering sexual tension, can we get to the point? Some of us need to put some work in, if we want to have sex tonight."

Elijah's eyes lift heavenward, "Please excuse Kol's crassness, ladies. But he is correct. We have a proposal for you."

Caroline raises a questioning brow at Kat. Kat lifts a shoulder in a subtle shrug. Caroline rolls her eyes, and nods. Kat, who's had her arms crossed, unfolds them and leans back, gesturing for Elijah to speak, "We're here, so you might as well lay it out."

Elijah details a plan, more elaborate and white collar than Caroline's used to, and she has to admit she's impressed. It's not perfect, and there are a few holes that need filling, but it's damn good.

She knows Kat is too. Kat had taught Caroline everything she knows, and they've been working together for close to seven years now. No one else can read the subtleties of Kat's expressions, or would notice slight tap of her thumb against the table when she thinks something needs work.

Kat wants in. Caroline agrees. The money's too good to turn down, even if the company leaves something to be desired.

They're silent for a few moments, after Elijah's wrapped up his pitch. Kat's face is considering, "Why the two of us? We're a team. You only need one other woman. I can think of at least three who'd work well enough."

Klaus and Elijah are silent but Kol lets out a laugh, "You're wrong. We're in need of both a straight laced secretary and a sneaky vixen. Bekah's trying her hand at the straight and narrow, has gotten all domestic with a dull, law abiding veterinarian." The final word is muttered with a large dose of disgust and an exaggerated shudder. "I've got ten thousand on it not lasting the year, but we'd like to have this wrapped before then."

"Kol," Klaus warns.

But the younger man merely widens his eyes, feigning innocence, "What, Niklaus? You've got to show a little trust in your team, brother."

Elijah sighs, speaking before Klaus can, "They are not yet a part of the team, Kol. So perhaps you should take a little more care to be discrete."

Kol eyes both Caroline and Katherine in turn, before he scoffs, and waves at the waitress, "Oh, please. They're in. Perhaps if either of you paid a little more attention you'd have more success in wooing the ladies, hmm?"

Klaus shifts, turning to face Caroline, eyes intent on her face, "Is he right, love? You're in?"

Caroline tips her head to the side, "Assuming the split is even amongst us? Then yes, we're in."

Klaus clears his throat, glancing over at Elijah, "One thing. Our usual computer man won't be available."

Kol cups a hand over the side of his mouth leaning in conspiratorially, "Poor thing's arse backwards in love with Bekah. Our dear sister tore his heart into itty bitty pieces, all in her quest to be _normal_. Left him a bit useless."

"We were hoping," Klaus says, with a harsh quelling look in Kol's direction, "to borrow yours. He's excellent, given the trouble we had tracking you, despite you being in our own backyard."

"Sexist," Caroline sing songs. "I can't promise anything, but I'll call _her_."

Kol claps his hands together, breaking Caroline's gaze from Klaus', "Splendid. I do think we should celebrate. Champagne?"

* * *

She'd tried to say no.

Business was one thing, but she had no desire to befriend Klaus. And celebrations were beyond premature, considering they didn't even have a full team, in place. And the plan still needed smoothing, and Caroline wanted to do a little bit of her own research.

But Kol had insisted, saying he had a very good feeling, and Klaus had refused to budge, and let her out of the booth.

Caroline had cursed her decision to wear flats, because a grinding a stiletto into his foot would have been very convincing.

Kat (and the very expensive, blade sharp, shoes _she_ was wearing) had been subdued, and entirely unhelpful, while Caroline had tried to make excuses for them to leave. She'd avoided Caroline's 'Help Me' eyes, focusing on Elijah, a calculating set to her mouth.

And then Caroline had realized she was on her own, at least until Kat managed to ferret out how Elijah had come across her given name.

And did what she could to prevent anyone else from getting it through the channels he'd used.

Caroline had accepted her momentary defeat, as gracefully as she could (which was to say, not very) and accepted a glass of Bollinger with a quiet grumble. She'd sipped it, doing her best to ignore Klaus, still a solid and distracting presence at her side. Kol drifted off quickly, eyes on a woman across the room.

Elijah and Kat eventually fell into an urgent, nearly whispered conversation that Caroline could only pick up confusing scraps of. But she noted the signs, was sure they'd be excusing themselves shortly.

Caroline pulled out her phone with a sigh, concentrating intensely.

It's not totally fake. She does need to check her email.

Caroline runs a reasonably popular travel blog as a legitimate side business, mostly for tax purposes, and so she doesn't have to hem and haw about what she does for a living if she happens to run into anyone she knows, or in the Christmas letters she sends to her distant aunts. She writes the odd article, putting the journalism degree she'd never completed, that her mother had been so proud of, to good use, and hiring freelancers to fill in the gaps. It's more of a hobby, at this point, but does require her attention, once in a while.

She's proven correct, scant minutes later when Elijah and Katherine make up vague and unbelievable reasons to leave together. Caroline sends Kat a text, demanding that they go to wherever Elijah called home, and leave her the apartment she and Kat had rented.

Caroline was so too old to be sexiled.

And she was still kind of pissed that Elijah had been such a snake (even if his proposal had the potential to make the payday from the Donovan job look like peanuts) and had no desire to stuff a pillow over her head to drown out any sex noises he made and not make snide comments about it over breakfast.

The bar's noise level has increased, and Caroline braces herself for Klaus to start talking to her, now that they're alone. It's a habit of his, one she's often been confused by, the genuine fascination he seems to have with her. He's still right up against her, she takes in the faintly spicy scent of the cologne he wears every time she inhales.

She remembers it well. Remembers burying her face in his throat, to muffle her moans, and keep from attracting attention, the last time they'd been together. Remembers waking up, in warm sheets that smelled like him, with his head buried between her thighs the very first time he'd coaxed her into bed.

It had been so much easier to ignore his proximity with his brothers and Kat around.

"Plotting an article all about the joys of London, then? I quite liked the ones you wrote a couple months ago about New Orleans."

Startled, Caroline looks up. She doesn't use her real name online, has yet another alias that she writes under, (and when people wonder why, she just tells them she doesn't want creeps tracking her down) so she's surprised that Klaus has not only found them, but read them.

"I could show you some of my favorite places, while you're here," Klaus offers, seeming serious.

"Yeah," Caroline says slowly, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'm not surprised," Klaus replies nonchalantly, as his hand finds her thigh under the table again. "But I'm not giving up, sweetheart."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "You're not giving up on what? Sleeping with me again? I'm not an idiot Klaus. Or delusional. I know that sex will happen. I just want to maintain a little dignity and hold off a bit, this time."

"You've only slept with me the one time, love. Despite my numerous invitations that you stay. But I'm not after just sex, Caroline," he tells her. She half expects his hand to move higher, but it stays put, tracing light patterns on her kneecap.

"Oh, what? Do you want to be my boyfriend, Klaus?" Caroline asks derisively.

He ignores her skepticism, nodding with a thoughtful look in his eyes, "I don't know if I'd phrase it quite that way but yes, that is the gist of what I'm going for. I want you to be mine."

Keeping her face carefully neutral Caroline shakes her head in denial, "You don't even know me."

"Now that's not strictly true, is it? I know you hate gin. You're fantastic at darts, and a bit of a sore winner. I know you like to sleep on your stomach and that you monopolize the covers. You're smart, and calculating. Methodical. I can't wait to pick your brain, about the plans Elijah laid out. You're an excellent dancer. And I've never seen anything lovelier than your face when you're coming around my cock."

Caroline feels her face heat, opens her mouth to sputter a reply, but Klaus leans in, and brushes his mouth over hers. She responds, before she can tell herself not too, because he's really, really good at this.

Klaus teases her, makes her chase him. The hand that's not on her thigh goes to her neck, encouraging her to tip her head to the side, as he takes the kiss deeper, licking into her mouth. She moans when he sucks on her lower lip, her hands reaching out to pull him closer. He smiles, against her lips, and her eyes flutter open in question. His hands fall from her, and she bites back a protest.

Klaus drops one last lingering kiss to her cheek murmuring, "I'll see you soon, Caroline," before he slides out of the booth and strolls out of the bar, leaving her staring after him, flushed and bewildered.

* * *

Caroline's sipping her second cup of coffee, when she hears the scraping of a key in the lock. She spins on the stool she occupies, and watches Kat float through the door, looking slightly disheveled but in an effortlessly fabulous way. She's wearing a crisp white men's button down, in place of the purple top she'd left the bar in, and Caroline raises an eyebrow, "Don't tell me Elijah's a shirt ripper? I never would have guessed."

Kat grins, dirty and maybe a little dreamy, "What can I say? It's always the quiet ones."

"Spare me the play by plays, please. I have to look the guy in the eye for the next couple weeks, remember? I'd rather not be over informed about how he likes to get freaky when I do."

Kat tosses her a mock salute, pouring her own cup of coffee. "What about you? Did Klaus walk of shame it out of here? Or did you roll off of him as soon as you were done? I can't imagine sticking around to talk to the guy, but then you're actually into him."

Caroline coughs, covering her mouth to avoid spraying her laptop with coffee, "What? Kat, no. I am _not_."

"Please. I taught you how to lie, Caroline. Don't try it with me."

"I…" Caroline begins another denial.

But Kat cuts her off, shaking her head, "I know I had some… words on the subject, in the beginning."

That was an understatement. Kat had lectured Caroline for weeks, about her initial slip up with Klaus.

Caroline had pegged him as a mark, been wrong, and gone back to his hotel with him anyway. She'd spent the night, breaking several of the rules Kat lived by, and had instilled in Caroline about attachments and love and how they had no place in their line of work in the process.

Sex was fine, encouraged even. But not with people who knew who you were, and never with other cons. It got messy, and messy got dangerous.

"And you've changed your mind, all of a sudden?" Caroline asks, her voice rising with her incredulity. "Geez. Elijah's penis must be freaking magical."

"I thought you didn't want the details?" Kat teases, a sly grin twisting her mouth. "But it's not about Elijah and me, Care. It's about you. You were so young and you'd just lost your mom. I didn't trust him not to mess with you. And I never thought you'd still be here, with me, so I didn't want you to get in too deep with someone like Klaus Mikaelson."

Caroline's eyes widen, "What? Kat…"

Katherine waves away Caroline's protests, "Your mother was a sheriff. I thought you'd pay off her medical bills, the extra mortgage, and all your student loans, and slip back into a normal life. Get married, get a dog, get a white picket fence. Forget all about me. And if you wanted that, I wanted you to have that."

"I don't want that," Caroline tells Kat, not a trace of doubt in her.

Kat smiles softly, "I know that, now. You've become steel, babe. And if anyone can handle that man, it's you. I have no idea why you'd want to, but I can grudgingly admit that he's awfully pretty to look at."

Caroline threw back her head and laughed, "I don't get why you hate him so much."

"He's a dick," Kat replies, nose wrinkled. Caroline laughs again, and eventually Kat joins in. "But," Kat says, once they've stopped giggling, "whatever his obvious deficiencies, you like him. Don't bother denying it. You wouldn't have continued having sex with him, and kept it hush hush, if you didn't."

"He's different, when we're alone. Not so harsh," Caroline offers. It's a weak explanation, but she's not entirely sure if she can formulate a better one. The moments they've shared have been fleeting, at her own insistence.

But he's always been able to _see _her, not just the carefully constructed shell that nearly everyone else does.

Kat shrugs, toeing off her heels, flexing her feet with a sigh, "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I trust your judgement. I'll kill him if he fucks up, but I'm pretty sure he knows that. Now, I'm going to shower, and take a nap. You'll track down Bon-Bon, see if she'll sign on?"

"Yep. I emailed her. She's going to set up something secure and we'll video conference later."

"Fab," Kat says, smothering a yawn. "Night, Care."

Shaking her head, Caroline turns back to her laptop and notebook, "Morning, Kat. And hey, I've never really said it, but thanks."

Kat looks confused, "For what?"

"What do you think? For buying me lunch, when I had sixty-seven cents to my name. You kind of saved my life, you know."

Kat points an accusatory finger, but there's softness around her eyes that she can't hide from Caroline, "Don't get mushy on me, Forbes. It's way too early for that shit."

Caroline's glad Kat can't see her smiling, "Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep, Petrova. It's totally your turn to get your boobs out and play the lure, so you'll need your beauty sleep."

* * *

That evening, Caroline's feeling pretty good about how her day's gone. She's done the research she wanted, and Bonnie's in, flying out tomorrow. Kat had texted Elijah the good news, and they'd set up a group meeting in three days, to really get things going.

She's excited, like she always is at the very beginning. When the options seem endless, when careful planning and attention to detail are the difference between success and failure.

Maybe she's a weirdo, and she _does_ like the adrenaline rush, the close calls and quick thinking, that come later when the job's been set in motion. But the foundation work is her favorite.

But Caroline finds herself uncharacteristically distracted. By Klaus' words, and how seriously he'd voiced them, the glint of desire in his eyes as the simple syllables had rolled off of his tongue.

'_I want you to be mine.'_

She wonders if the possessiveness should scare her, if she's being an idiot because it doesn't. Kat's right, Caroline knows. She can handle Klaus. And she knows that he doesn't want to trap her, he's never tried to force her to stay before, as much as he'd made it clear that he's resented her quick exits from their trysts.

And from the amused looks Kat keeps shooting her, from where she's curled up on the couch with a magazine, her inability to concentrate must be pretty noticeable.

Caroline's phone buzzes, and she digs it out of her pocket. She's surprised to see a text from Kat. It's an address, nothing more.

Caroline opens her mouth to ask Kat why she's sending a text, when they're literally ten feet away from each other, but Kat speaks before she can, "Say hi to Klaus for me. I won't wait up."

When she turns to glare at her friend Kat meets it steadily, amused expression in place, "I'm not…" Caroline stutters.

"Thinking about him, right this very moment? Come on, Caroline. What did I tell you? Lie better than that."

"I can't just…"

Once again, Kat interrupts, "Sure you can. I even weaseled his security code out of Elijah, not that it was hard. Seems Klaus' fondness for you is hardly a secret. And I know you want to stew in it, make lists and talk yourself out of it eighty times before you make a move, but you don't need to, Caroline. And besides, we've got a job to do, so it's better if you two work out your tension before we really get started."

"Your sudden switch to Team Klaus is freaking me out."

Kat looks completely offended, "Never say that again. And quit stalling and leave already. I know you want to."

Caroline hesitates, mostly because Kat will never let her live it down, if she bolts out the door. Kat crosses her arms, looking at Caroline expectantly, her foot beginning to tap on the floor. Caroline throws up her hands, "Alright, fine. Fine, I'm going. Just let me change first."

"Good idea. Might I suggest something black and lacy? Not something expensive. He seemed a mite pent up and we don't want the good lingerie to get damaged when he rips it off of you."

"Shut up, Kat," Caroline answers, throwing one last withering look at the smirking brunette before she leaves the room.

* * *

Kat had texted her the code to get into Klaus' apartment, but slipping past the doorman takes a little work. She debates knocking, like a normal person, as she rides the elevator up eleven stories. But they're not normal, never have been.

The first time she'd approached him had been with false pretenses. He'd played along at first, making up a life for himself, asking questions about her, and the character she'd decided to play (Misty Falls, aspiring professional cheerleader) despite the fact that she'd probably been ridiculously transparent, as green as she had been, and as experienced as he was.

He'd been easy to talk to, funny, and the accent had been a pleasant bonus. She'd found herself smiling genuinely, touching him without calculation. Eventually he'd turned to her and leaned in, murmuring, "Why don't you tell me your real name, sweetheart?"

Alarmed, she'd tried to pull back, but he'd kept talking, explaining that he's seen her with Katherine, whom he was acquainted with, and that he made a living in a similar way.

She'd been embarrassed, kicking herself for her failure, and had tried to slink away. But Klaus had smiled, all dimples and easy charm, and cajoled her into stay for another drink.

Caroline had been wary, but had agreed. Working with Katherine was interesting, and exhilarating, but it was hard to be someone else, all the time. Maybe that's why she'd let her guard down more than she should have, and been herself, with him.

She'd eventually told him her real name, learned his in return. One drink had stretched to three, and when he'd invited her back to his hotel room, the curl of his lips and the heated way he'd surveyed her had left no room to misinterpret what would happen if she agreed.

She'd gone with him willingly, had let him kiss her in the elevator, much to the disgust of the other occupants.

He'd blown her mind, again and again that night, and when he'd pulled her into him, whispered for her to rest, she'd closed her eyes, embraced the comfort of him around her, and easily fallen asleep.

The next morning, he'd asked for her number, and she'd refused to give it to him.

He'd tracked it down somehow, and texted her several days later. But she'd ignored him.

They'd run into each other, months later, at a charity gala in Washington, D.C. And ended up tangled together in the back of a limo.

It kept happening, weeks, months, sometimes even a year, between interludes. But when he was near her Caroline couldn't help but be drawn to him.

But connections were dangerous, she'd insisted to herself, not a luxury she had anymore. She'd kept Klaus at arm's length, always righting her clothes and scurrying off, before the sweat had even cooled on her skin.

But right now, walking down Klaus' hallway, jittery and excited, Caroline was thinking that maybe she didn't have to be so cautious anymore. Maybe some things were worth a risk.

Caroline punches the code into the keypad by the door, holds her breath until it lights up green, and she can turn to knob.

She'd decided against knocking, because they're not normal, and she has no desire to pretend right now.

There's a light on in the kitchen, but no sign of Klaus. Caroline wanders in, spinning around to take in Klaus' space. It's a large open concept, kitchen, living room, dining room, all sparsely furnished. A lot of dark wood and rich leather, abstract art on the walls. There's a sketchbook on an end table, and she thinks about taking a peek, but resists.

She'll ask him, later. See if he'll let her look.

There's a balcony, and Caroline checks it first, to see if Klaus is there. Finding it empty she wanders down a hallway, opening doors as she goes. A bathroom, what she thinks is a guestroom, a closet, and a studio of some sort (and again, she has to ruthlessly shove her curiosity aside). There's one final door, at the end of the hallway, and Caroline opens it, looking cautiously inside.

It's a bedroom, more lived in than the other, personal touches obvious. She hears water running, sees steam emerging from a partially opened door.

Caroline's relived that he's home, because she's not sure she's ballsy enough to attempt this again.

Flicking on the light, and taking one of the chairs in the corner, Caroline removes her cardigan, and kicks off her shoes, curls her legs under her, waiting for Klaus to be finished.

She gets nervous, when she hears the water shut off, begins to pick at the seam of the upholstery. The door to the bathroom opens fully, and Klaus stops short, his eyes scanning the room. He relaxes when he spots her, and she lifts her hand in a wave.

"Not twenty four hours and you're already in my bedroom, love? What happened to waiting this time? And how did you manage to get in here?"

"Your brother is apparently into matchmaking. Tell me, Klaus, have you talked about me?"

He avoids her eyes, bringing a towel up to rub at his dripping hair, obscuring his face. Caroline doesn't mind. The action itself is a tell, and the view of his lean torso, beads of water dripping down the planes of it, disappearing into the towel knotted at his waist, isn't exactly unpleasant.

Klaus doesn't answer her question, patting himself dry, shamelessly dropping the towel and stepping into a pair of sweatpants before taking the chair across from her.

"Why are you here, Caroline?" Klaus asks, watching her closely.

She fidgets, under his gaze, wishing she'd rehearsed what she wanted to say. Caroline clears her throat, begins hesitantly, "I… I want to talk about what you said."

"How novel," Klaus remarks, deceptively light. "You've never expressed much interest in conversation, when there was a bed in the vicinity."

Caroline's eyes narrow, "I can leave if you want me too, Klaus."

"You always do, love. Regardless of what I want."

There's an edge of hurt to it, something he's never let her see before. Irritation, impatience, anger, those she's gotten, every time she's slipped away. Caroline takes a deep breath, glancing down, mustering her courage. "You said you want me to be yours. I'm here to ask what you meant by that."

Klaus blinks, mild surprise flitting across his expression, before it shutters. "I thought it was self-explanatory, Caroline. I fancy you. I want you. In my bed, in my life. Your body but also your delightful mind. I want to argue until you storm off. And then I want to make you laugh until you've forgotten why you were mad at me. I want lazy mornings, afternoon excursions, wild nights. I want all of it, with you."

She'd stopped breathing, somewhere in the middle, and inhales harshly once he's done. Her voice, when she speaks, isn't entirely steady, "For how long?"

"For as long as you'll have me," Klaus replies. His voice lowers, growing husky, "And I intend to convince you to have me for a very, very long time."

There are things they'll have to work out. This job will only last for six months, tops. And then they may very well be off in separate directions. But it's not like either of them are tied down to nine to five lives, or they don't have the means to hop a plane and meet somewhere in the middle.

And who knows. Maybe this job will be the first of many to come, maybe she and Kat won't leave a team of only two, at the end of it.

He's quiet, as she processes, which Caroline appreciates. Her thoughts are rapid, and confusing, but when her mind stills, she's sure that there's no part of her that does not want this.

"Okay, Caroline breathes shakily, "Okay, we can try."

Klaus is out of his chair immediately, pulling Caroline out of hers and into his body. She tilts her head, expecting him to kiss her, but Klaus' hands are on her face, his blue eyes burning with determination, inches from hers, "Be very sure, Caroline. I've never chased you before, but I will now. I won't be able to stop myself."

Caroline can feel herself smiling, as she puts her hands in his chest. He stiffens, as she glides them down, and around his back, yanking him closer, so there's not a speck of space between them, "Good," she whispers, against his lips.

He makes a noise, low in his throat, and opens his mouth against hers, his hands burying themselves in her hair to tip her head. It's aggressive, tongue and a hint of teeth, but Caroline doesn't mind, her body pushing back against his as she rises onto her tiptoes and rakes her nails down his back.

Caroline tugs at the waistband of his sweatpants, the only thing he's wearing, working them down his hips. Klaus kicks them away, but he grabs her hands, holding them at her sides before she can touch him. "Uh, uh, sweetheart. Not so fast."

She pulls against his hold, "I want to touch you," she tells him, licking her lips and glancing down to where his cock is pressed between them.

Klaus laughs, low and warm, "When you're naked. But not before."

Caroline looks up, about to protest, but he spins her, pressing his chest into her back, and scraping his teeth along her shoulder. Caroline shudders, her head pressing into his shoulder. She reaches down, peeling her tank away quickly, before resting against him, relishing his skin on hers. Klaus lets out an amused sound, against her neck, his hands coming up to cup her breasts through her bra, his thumbs scraping over her nipples.

"Such eagerness, when we're like this, Caroline. But there's no need for haste now, love. I have all night, and all morning. We've nowhere to be tomorrow, and I plan to keep you in my bed."

"Maybe," Caroline rasps, arching her back pushing her breasts more firmly into his hands, "you should actually take me to bed, before you make any promises, Klaus."

"Mmm, perhaps I misspoke," Klaus says considering, "we have, after all, never really required a bed, have we?"

He pulls away from her, dropping to his knees. "Unbutton, Caroline," Klaus orders, pressing a kiss to the base of her spine.

Her fingers hurry to obey, and he peels the tight jeans she'd been wearing down her thighs, taking her panties with them. He helps her step out of them, and his hands ghost up and down her legs a few times, higher on each pass, his thumbs teasing the back of her knees, her inner thighs, until she's nearly shaking in anticipation of him actually touching her.

"Come down here," he murmurs, holding her hips steady as she sinks to the floor, arranging her until her knees are spread, her calves outside of his, and she's in his lap. She tries to grind back, feeling his cock hot and hard against her ass, but Klaus stills her, nudging her knees further apart, "Soon, sweetheart," he promises lowly, planting a kiss on her neck, as his hand drifts down her belly.

One long finger ghosts further down, parting her folds and stroking over her entrance, dipping too briefly inside. Her hips jerk, but Klaus has one arm around them, not letting her chase his hand. "Patience," he chides her, as he drags his finger agonizingly slowly back up, until it's resting on her clit

Caroline reaches up, tangles her hand in his hair, "Klaus, come on. More."

He rubs a slow circle in response, and she leans more heavily on him with a moan, her legs widening in a silent plea for more. He adds another finger, still maddeningly gentle with her, rubbing and rolling her clit until she's panting and aching. She wants more, has reached down to slide her fingers inside of her clenching body, but Klaus refuses to let her, muttering quietly about how he'll be the one giving her what she needs.

And she knows that he can, and the buildup is exquisite, her skin dampening and muscles quivering as she strains for an edge that's just beyond her reach, Klaus warm and firm against her back.

She's got her nails buried in his neck, her free hand playing with her nipple, her lips parted as she moves against him. Klaus has his head on her shoulder, looking down at his hands working her slick, sensitive flesh. "You're so beautiful, Caroline. Are you close?"

She nods frantically, a moan escaping, "Good," Klaus says, pulling his hand away. He shifts up, easing her pliant body forward until it's draped over the seat of the chair in front of her. His hand glides up her back, undoing her bra and tossing it aside. She feels his cock, pressed against her entrance, and Caroline grips the cushion, tilting her hips up and letting out a sigh as he slides inside of her, her eyes fluttering shut as she marvels at just how _good_ he feels.

Klaus bends over her, his forearms caging in her torso as he nuzzles her hair to the side, lips dragging along her cheekbone.

"I'm never going a year without this again, Caroline," Klaus grits out, his frame tense against her. "You feel so incredible, around my cock." His hand tunnels under her, returning to her clit. She'd been so close before, it takes only a few passes over the nub until she's shaking against him, calling his name as she comes.

His breathing's labored, his cock still snugly inside of her, "You're going to come for me again, love."

She shifts back against him, wordlessly nodding, speech beyond her right now. Her inner muscles squeeze in a demand he just _move_ already. Klaus curses, and pulls back slowly, rocking into her again. He sets a slow, precise tempo, grinding his hips against her backside in a way that makes her whimper, every other stroke. Caroline's not content to be passive for long, getting her elbows under her and using the new leverage to meet his motions.

He speeds up, after that, panting harshly against her shoulder, his fingers back on her clit. He's purposeful, this time, rubbing directly, his touch roughening as his thrusts do.

Klaus sits back, on his knees, dragging her with him, and the new angle causes her to let out a shout as it grazes a spot inside of her that has her legs twitching. "Yes," Klaus hisses, "you're almost there, aren't you? Come for me. Let go, Caroline. I want to feel it."

One more thrust and she does, shaking against him, burying her face in the chair to muffle her scream. Klaus follows her, with a groan, his hands shaking against her.

He relaxes against her gradually, his cock softening and slipping out. Caroline feels boneless, lets the chair take more of her weight, as Klaus' mouth wanders down her spine, his hands rubbing her sides soothingly.

He strokes her hair, tugging gently to encourage her to turn her head and look at him. It sends a new flicker of interest through Caroline. Klaus notices, if the pleased murmur he makes is any indication. He looks a little wary, when she shifts enough to take in his face. Caroline can't blame him, since this is the part where she usually bolts.

But she's agreed to try, and she wouldn't have, if she hadn't meant it. Caroline sits up, stretching her arms to the side. Her voice is scratchy, when she speaks, "So maybe you were right, and we don't exactly need a bed. But there's a perfectly good one, right there. And any more of this and my knees are going to be killing me tomorrow."

Klaus grins, smug and maybe a little relieved, getting to his feet, "I do believe that's the first time you've admitted I was right, love."

Caroline rolls her eyes, but she's smiling, taking the hand he offers and pulling herself up,"You probably shouldn't get used to it."

"We'll see," Klaus counters, leaning down to kiss her, before she can argue. It's slower and sweeter, just a hint of tongue, than anything they've ever shared. Caroline's hands reach out, wanting to feel his skin. Klaus rests his forehead, against hers, "Let me take you to bed?"

Caroline takes his hand, tugging him across the room and pushing him down. He goes with a laugh, eyes bright as she crawls over him. "Bed now," she tells him, trailing kisses up his thigh, relishing how his eyes widen and his abs tighten in anticipation. Caroline darts her tongue out, traces his hipbone. He groans as she pulls slightly away, hovering over his stirring cock. She taps her chin thoughtfully, "then we can test out the rest of your apartment. We do have all night. And all day."

"Because you're staying," Klaus says, tone strained but still forceful.

Caroline ducks her head, licks a stripe along the underside of his cock, before sucking the head into her mouth, pulling back to grin to herself at the garbled moan he lets out, as he falls back against the pillows.

Caroline waits for his eyes to open, to focus on her. "I'm staying," she confirms. She thinks he believes her, but a little extra convincing won't hurt, Caroline thinks, as she takes him in her mouth again.

Besides, Klaus is _very_ good at returning favors.


	21. The Laine Does Halloween Drabbles

**[EDIT: I have no idea why ffnet is saying this has been updated but it hasn't! These were posted November 1st.]**

**Notes: **Happy Halloween! I'm a fan. Here are some holiday themed drabbles I posted yesterday on Tumblr. Enjoy!

**Don't Say Maybe**

**(Prompt from an Anon: ****Imagine though - Human!teen klaus has to take his younger siblings out on trick and treat which he "hates" (but secretly he loves it hes just pretending to keep his im totally cool look) and guess who opens one of the doors when they knock CAROLINE. Title from 'Teenage Dirtbag' by Wheatus. Rated K+.)**

"Nik! Nik! It's time to go!" The final word was drawn out, as Henrik tapped frantically on Klaus' door.

Rolling his eyes, and tossing his sketchpad aside, Klaus threw open his bedroom door, trying to look stern. Henrik was dressed as Captain America, plastic pumpkin in hand, practically bouncing in excitement in the hallway.

Adding candy was likely going to be a bad idea. But Klaus wasn't overly concerned. He would be gone later, to a party at The Falls, and putting a sugared up Henrik to bed would fall under Bekah's purview.

"It's only 5:45, Henrik. I said we'd leave at 6 o'clock."

"But you have to come downstairs and put on your shoes and your jacket and find your keys. By the time you do all that it _will_ be six. So can we go? Please, Nik?"

Klaus wavered, for a few moments, before nodding. Henrik was six, and Klaus rarely had the heart to say no to him.

Which was why he was on trick or treating duty in the first place. At nearly fifteen Kol was just on the cusp of being too old to trick or treat and had wanted to spend the evening with his mates. Bekah, at thirteen, had balked at the idea of being seen with her little brother and Henrik, generally quiet and a little shy, wasn't overly fond of her group of friends, finding them shrill and overly excitable.

And they were a bit featherheaded, as a group, so no one had trusted them not to forget about Henrik and leave him behind.

Their mother was out of town, their father back in England, where they preferred him to stay. And so, when they'd discussed this evening at dinner last week, and Henrik had turned big, pleading eyes and an ever so slightly wobbly lip in Klaus' direction, he'd caved.

On the condition that his curfew be abolished for the night and that Kol and Bekah took responsibility for Henrik after nine PM. And that he get first crack at the tiny Snickers his younger siblings amassed.

Klaus didn't believe in doing something for nothing.

Henrik let out a happy squeal, and darted off down the staircase. Klaus took his time, because he knew it would take him less than three minutes, to gather what he needed. When he entered the foyer Henrik was standing impatiently by the door. "Go grab a sweater," Klaus instructed him.

"Captain America doesn't get cold!" Henrik protested.

"But you might," Klaus countered. "You can put it under your costume if you need to, alright?"

"Fine," he huffs, "I left one in the kitchen."

He ran off, and Klaus debated yelling after him to cease running in the house but he figured it was probably a waste of words, on this particular evening.

He gets on his own jacket and boots, digs his keys out of his pocket, where he knew they'd be. Henrik returns quickly, handing a hooded sweatshirt to Klaus. "Right, are we ready? You've gone to the bathroom?"

"Not a baby, Nik," Henrik pouts, looking offended.

Klaus turns to hide his smile, opening the door, "Of course not. Let's go."

* * *

An hour and a half later he and Henrik are turning down a new street. Henrik's haul has been outstanding, the accent and manners leading various people to give him double handfuls, so Klaus has a bag filled with treats dangling from one arm, because Henrik had complained that the pumpkin got too heavy.

Klaus is very glad that they've yet to run into anyone he knows.

Henrik's a little in front of him, walking up the steps to a new house. The front doors open, and Klaus sees a woman through the screen of the storm door.

His heart sinks a little, as he recognizes her, because his luck has just run out.

Caroline Forbes turns, likely hearing Henrik's footsteps, grinning down at his younger brother. Klaus swallows hard, because she looks incredible. She's got a halo nestled in her blonde curls, and fluffy white wings attached to her back. She's wearing a soft white sweater, over a long white dress, and her skin is dusted with gold glitter.

"Trick or treat!" Henrik calls cheerfully, holding his pumpkin aloft.

Caroline laughs, pushing open the door, a bowl of candy balanced on her hip, "Hi! Great costume," she leans forward, voice dropping to a loud whisper, "Captain America's my favorite Avenger."

"Mine too!" Henrik replies excitedly.

Caroline drops a few pieces of candy into Henrik's outstretched pail, her eyes wandering past him to Klaus. Klaus waves awkwardly, and then shoves his hands in his pockets.

Her eyes widen, and another smile lights her features, "Klaus, hey! I didn't know you had another brother."

It's not surprising. They don't exactly travel in the same social circles, Klaus isn't the biggest fan of the jocks and cheerleaders that Caroline surrounds herself with. But they'd been paired up for an English project last semester and he'd been pleasantly surprised to find that she was remarkably intelligent and very driven.

They'd received the best grade in the class, and she'd occasionally stopped to chat with him in the halls ever since. He's never quite sure what to make of it, so he's not offered much in the way of personal information, mostly asking about her.

He maybe nursed a teeny, tiny crush. Entirely uselessly, as Caroline had recently begun dating the football team's quarterback.

She's still looking at him, her smile fading slightly, and Klaus realizes that she's probably waiting for an answer, "I have four brothers, in total. And a sister."

Her eyes widen slightly, "Huh. That's a lot. I have never been so happy that I don't have to share a bathroom."

That sounded like heaven to Klaus, as he currently shared one with both Kol and Henrik, neither of whom were exactly tidy.

He feels a tug on his jacket and he looks down, to see Henrik looking up at him sheepishly, "Nik? I have to go to the bathroom now."

Klaus opens his mouth but Caroline's stepping aside, gesturing them inside, before Klaus' can reply, "You can use mine." She smiles down at Henrik, "I'm Caroline and I'm friends with your brother."

Henrik looks up at Klaus for confirmation and he nods, nudging his brother forward, "We go to school together."

"Oh, okay. I'm Henrik," he offers his hand to Caroline, very solemnly, and her lips twitch as she shakes it.

"Very nice to meet you, Henrik. Come on inside."

Caroline flicks off the porch light, once they enter, and shuts the door, leading them deeper into the house. She tosses her halo onto the kitchen island and points down the hall, "Bathroom's that way. The door's open."

Henrik follows the direction she'd pointed out. "Do you need help, Hen?" Klaus calls, before he leaves the room.

"Nope," he replies instantly. "Still not a baby."

Klaus shakes his head and Caroline grins. "He's so freaking cute!" she whispers.

"He has his moments," Klaus says.

"Do you want something to drink?" Caroline asks, opening the fridge.

Klaus shakes his head, feeling awkward, "Where's your mother?"

"Right now? Probably busting drunk drivers on the highway. Halloween's always a busy night for her." She hops up onto a kitchen stool, raising an eyebrow at him and gesturing to the seat next to her, "You can sit, you know. She's not going to pop out and arrest you. I'm totally allowed to have boys in the house."

Klaus takes the stool, tapping his fingers on the counter. They're silent for a few moments, and Klaus decides to break it before it gets uncomfortable, "So, are you going to the party later?"

Caroline grimaces, "No."

"Why not?" Klaus asks, surprised. Nearly everyone was going, as far as he knew. Caroline was something of a social butterfly, so it struck him as odd that she was sitting this one out.

Her tone becomes disdainful, "Because Tyler's bringing his new girlfriend and I'd rather not stand around watching him paw at her, while everyone gives me pitying looks or laughs at me behind my back."

"I'm sorry. I hadn't known you two broke up." It's a struggle for Klaus to seem sincere, but he thinks that he manages it well enough.

It mightn't have been necessary, because Caroline waves it away dismissively, "No, I am way better off, don't worry. I just don't want to deal with the drama, you know? I'm going to finish up with the trick or treaters and watch some movies. Would you…" she stops herself, looking down at the table.

"Would I what?" Klaus prompts, intrigued.

"Would you maybe want to watch them with me? I mean, I get if you want to go to the party. Word in the girl's bathroom is that Genevieve has a mega crush on you and is planning to bring out the big guns, costume wise, so…"

"I'd love to watch movies with you, Caroline," Klaus interrupts, trying to keep from smiling too widely. No need to scare her off by seeming excessively eager.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'll drop Henrik at home and come back."

She squints at him, "Are you sure? I don't want a pity date thing here. I totally flirted with you last semester and got nada."

"I don't recall any flirting," Klaus protests, thinking back.

"Seriously?"

"I would've flirted back. Perhaps asked you to the movies, had I detected an interest,"

"I totally flirted. But I guess I'll just have to be more obvious," she smirks at him mischievously.

"Oh? And what does more obvious look like?" Klaus wonders, watching her intently.

She bites her lip, and leans in slightly, her voice lowering, "You see this?" she gestures down, at her costume, and Klaus nods. "This is PG rated, suitable for all audiences. But when you leave, I'm going to put on the R rated version. Just for you. And trust me, it's not exactly angelic."

Klaus swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably, his imagination racing. He clears his throat, "Well, I suppose I'll have to hurry back, then."

She leans in further, resting a palm on his thigh for balance, softly brushing her mouth over his. Klaus hears a door open, Henrik's light tread down the hall.

Caroline quickly pulls back, suggestively murmuring, "I really hope you do."

**Party For Your Life**

**(Prompt from goldcaught: ****kc + caroline and klaus as presidents of rival sorority/fraternity's &amp; end up throwing competing extravagant halloween parties leading up to the main event and oops they kind of keep having sex at all of them? Title from the Down With Webster song. Smut.)**

_**T Minus 8 Days**_

When Caroline first sees the poster, she _is not_ in a good mood. So maybe that's why she goes a little postal.

She'd just met up with her project group (assigned – which was entirely cruel and unusual, at this stage of her college career) and they'd passed around the preliminary research they'd compiled. One person's work was good, another's decent, the third's abysmal and Caroline's going to need to stay up late to fix it.

Because it's not like she has anything better to do. Like go to the SAE party and flirt a little with that cute guy she's been eyeing in her Stats lab.

She's walking quickly, wanting to get home when a flash or orange paper posted to a bulletin board catches her eye. She pauses, studies the picture critically, a sinking feeling in her stomach. It's the Sigma Pi house, drawn to look like a haunted mansion, tiny cartoon ghosts floating along the edges.

And then she reads the text.

Caroline's mood goes from not good to apoplectic, as soon as the words sink into her brain. She rips the poster down, not caring that she's technically defacing school property, before she turns on her heel, and marches in the opposite direction of her sorority.

Halloween was her thing, damn it. She'd been planning this for _years_. And if Klaus Mikaelson thought he was about to hone in on her territory he had another thing coming.

* * *

Kol opens the door, grins when he sees her, lounges casually against the frame. "Ah, Caroline Forbes, don't you look tasty if not a little bent out of shape. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Caroline takes a deep breath, forces a smile, "Kol. While I am 100% sure that you are by no means innocent here, my issue is with your evil brother. Is he here?"

"Nik's in his office. Asked not to be disturbed. Might I take a message?"

Caroline gives up attempting to be polite, "Move, Kol. Or I'll crush your balls into powder and make you drink them like iced tea."

He straightens, with a smirk, "While internet pornography has taught me that is an act some men may enjoy, I'm afraid I am not one of them. Go on in, darling."

"Thank you," Caroline says, breezing past him. She gets a few calls, and a whistle or two, when she passes the living room, but she ignores that.

There's only one person she plans on yelling at today.

Klaus' office is at the far end of the house, and she's been in it more than once. The last time, just before she'd gone home last summer, might have ended with them having sex on his desk.

But she's definitely not going to think about that right now.

Caroline doesn't bother to knock, just throws open the door and lets it bang against the wall. Klaus barely glances up at her, after he notes her presence, his eyes glued to a MacBook on the desk, "Can I help you, love?"

She walks over to the desk, shuts his laptop with a snap, and slaps the flyer over top of it. "Yeah, you can help me. You can explain to me what you think you're doing with this bullshit. Alpha Gamma Delta owns Halloween here. Always has."

Klaus leans back, seemingly unfazed by her ire, "Perhaps I thought it was time to change that. Save people from the same old same old."

"You did not," Caroline utters disbelievingly, tone low and dangerous, "just imply that my parties are boring, did you?"

"Was I being too subtle?" he asks, blinking up at her innocently.

The noise that comes out of her throat is nearly a growl. "It is on, Mikaelson. You're going to be sorry, mark my words."

She whirls, before he can reply, making a hasty exit. Because she's sure that whatever that's about to come out of his ridiculously tempting mouth will be annoying, and she's _this_ close to leaping across the desk and strangling him.

Or possibly ripping off his clothes. She's taken great pains to avoid him, since getting back to school, and he looks better than ever and certain parts of her are definitely noticing.

Which is crazy, and a clear sign that Caroline needs to make getting laid a priority this week.

Just not with Klaus.

She's moving at a good clip, wanting to get out of the house before she screams, but Kol steps into her path, forcing Caroline to pull up short. She glares, but he is, of course, unperturbed. Must be a family thing. "Leaving so soon?" he drawls, "I'm a bit disappointed in my big brother's lack of stamina."

Caroline makes a disgusted noise, stepping around him and shoving him into a wall. Kol laughs, "Into the rough stuff, then? Good to know."

She flips him off, before stalking out the door.

_**T Minus 7 Days**_

Caroline turns, when her shoulder's tapped, expecting one of her friends, or hopefully an attractive guy, so she can actually work on the whole getting laid thing. She deflates slightly, when she sees who's standing beside her, "Oh, it's you again," she deadpans, "I think I'm going to need something stronger."

Klaus laughs easily, leaning past her, picking up a bottle of vodka and shaking it lightly in question. Caroline nods grudgingly, and holds out her cup.

"You look ravishing tonight, Caroline," Klaus compliments, as he pours, with an appreciative glance down her body.

"Thank you," she replies automatically, swirling the contents of her cup. She sneaks a peek at him, notes the way the thin cotton of his Henley clings to his shoulders.

Why did he have to be so freaking good looking?

Klaus places his hand to his chest, drawing her attention, as he inhales dramatically, "A civil exchange? Between you and I? Is this a sign of the end of times?"

Caroline knocks her shoulder into his, fighting a smile, "And people say I'm a drama queen. Maybe I just have an easier time understanding why girls think you're charming when I have a little booze in me."

"Have you and your little girlfriends been gossiping about me?" Klaus asks, his eyes lighting with interest as he leans into her. "Tell me all about it."

"Not my girlfriends," Caroline denies. "But you dated Greta, who's on my squad. And FYI whatever guy's say in the locker room is nothing compared to what girl's do. She _really_ talked you up."

Klaus looks thoughtful, "Is that why you did it, then?"

Caroline's jostled, from behind, and half of the contents of her cup go flying, landing on Klaus' shirt. "Fuck. Sorry!" She sets her cup down, spinning in search of paper towels. She grabs a wad, presses them into Klaus hands. "I didn't mean…"

"It's okay, Caroline," he soothes. "Completely not your fault. I should have picked a less crowded location in which to chat you up."

Caroline pauses, at that, mildly confused. Because that almost sounded like Klaus admitting he'd been trying to flirt with her. "Oh. Um, still. I'm sorry," she clenches her fists, to stop the anxious = flapping they'd been doing. "Look, Bonnie's boyfriend lives here. Do you want to come upstairs with me? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you borrowed a shirt to go home in."

"That would be excellent, actually," Klaus says, peeling the sticky fabric away from his skin.

"Come on," Caroline says, turning and leading him to the staircase.

Klaus follows, close behind her, but stays uncharacteristically quiet, until after they've closed themselves inside of Enzo's room, muffling the sounds of the party below them. "You never answered my question, sweetheart."

Caroline pauses, her hand on the knob of Enzo's closet door, "What question?"

"Was it Greta's glowing recommendation that caused you to kiss me, in my office last year? Because while I am loathe to speak to her again, I might just owe her a thank you."

"Classy, Klaus," Caroline snorts, "I can just imagine how that would go." She lowers her voice, imitating his accent, "'Thanks for telling all the cheerleaders that I can do amazing things with my tongue! It totally got me into Caroline's pants this one time.'"

He's suddenly right behind her, an arm sliding around her waist, "First, that accent was horrid. Second, I would never say 'totally' like that. Third, I'm rather hoping it will be more than just the one time."

Caroline finds herself leaning back into him, even as she says, deliberately flirty, "Never figured you for an optimist, Klaus."

He laughs softly, and she can feel the vibration of it down her back, "I'm not. In the slightest. But I think you want me, Caroline. And I think it's obvious that I want you."

He sweeps her hair to the side, laying soft kisses along the side of her neck. It feels good, his lips are soft and the slight scratch of his stubble leaves goosebumps on her skin. His hand slips under her tank, fingers drawing light patterns on her skin.

She really, really shouldn't be doing this.

But screw it, he's right. She does want him. For some reason the chemicals in her body go crazy for him, and at least she knows the sex will be good.

She pulls away from him, turning and dropping her hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him and letting it fall to the floor. She runs her hands down his chest, watching as the muscles twitch under her fingertips. She touches his belt, glancing up in time to see his throat bob, notes the tightness in his jaw and the heat in his eyes, "Did you lock the door?" she asks lightly.

Klaus shakes his head, and Caroline pushes him away gently. "Do it. Bonnie will kill me if she finds out I had sex in Enzo's bed."

He rushes to obey, and Caroline pulls down the blankets, "Please tell me you have a condom," she says, kicking off her shoes and sitting down. "I do not _want_ to go rummaging through drawers."

He digs out his wallet, setting it on the bedside table after he produces a foil packet. He moves to get on the bed, but Caroline stops him, one palm flat on his abdomen. She tugs on his belt, until he's standing between her knees, her skirt pushed high on her thighs.

She looks up at him as she undoes his belt, licks her lips, trying to convey what she's planning. He groans softly, mutters, "Caroline…" his fingers reaching out to thread through her hair.

"Do you want me to?" she asks, slowly undoing his zipper. "Because I want to."

Caroline works his pants down his hips, leans forward to press her lips to his stomach, darting his tongue out to taste his skin, her chin just brushing the bulge in his boxer briefs, "God, yes," Klaus replies, voice hoarse, his pupils blown as he watches her.

She pulls his boxer briefs down, tearing her gaze from his face. She's seen him naked before. But is had been dark, and they'd been rushed, so she'd not been able to get the full affect. She wraps her hand around the base of him, leans down to run her tongue along the underside. She smiles slightly, when he seems to sway on his feet. She swirls her tongue around the head, licking over the tip, before she sucks him into her mouth. A noise comes out of his throat, high pitched and nearly pleading, and his hands tighten in her hair for a moment.

She works her way up and down, sucking hard and hollowing her cheeks when she pulls back, using her hand to stroke what she can't fit in her mouth. She looks up at him, letting out a hum. Klaus curses, his chest rising rapidly, his thigh muscles taut. Caroline lets him fall from her mouth, drops her hand to fondle his balls. He gasps her name, his head falling back, "Is this alright?" Caroline asks innocently, trying not to smirk.

It seems to take a great deal of effort, for him to roll his head forward enough to look at her, his expression incredulous, "It's perfect. Don't stop," he mutters.

"Perfect for you maybe," Caroline tells him, "I could use a little something." She puts her hand on her thigh, trailing it upwards suggestively.

Klaus' eyes widen, the further she pulls her skirt up. It's almost funny, how huge they are, when she shifts to let her skirt settle around her waist. A quick glance down tells her that the damp spot on her light blue panties is visible, but Caroline's beyond being embarrassed. He's practically writhing under her mouth, how can that _not_ be a turn on?

"Do you want me to touch myself while I suck your cock, Klaus?"

"Holy fuck, Caroline," he breathes. "You're incredible, love."

"I'll take that as a yes," she murmurs impishly, before she tunnels her fingers under her panties, using her other hand to bring his cock back to her mouth.

His eyes are glued to her now, darting between the hand she's rubbing her clit with, and the sight of her mouth, stretched around him.

He tries to tug her off, after a few minutes, saying her name in a strained tone. But Caroline just sucks harder, firming the motions of her hand. Klaus lets out a low moan, almost sounding pained, and then he shudders, coming in her mouth. Caroline swallows quickly, pulling another curse from him, before letting him slip from her lips.

She expects him to collapse onto the bed, spent and lazy now that his need has been satisfied, so she brings her hand down, prepared to take care of herself. But Klaus surprises her, dropping to his knees, his hands urging her to lie back as he peels her panties down her legs. His hands stroke up her inner thighs, pressing them wide, and then he's bending down, sucking her clit into his mouth. Caroline's mouth drops open, a shaky sigh emerging, as her hands reach out to grab at his hair, her hips arching up into his face.

Greta had totally been right about the tongue thing.

_**T Minus 6 Days**_

Klaus slides in next to her at the meeting, seconds before it's called to order, preventing Caroline from being able to find a new seat.

She'd known he'd be here, he couldn't miss it, since it was mandatory for all presidents and vice-presidents of the on campus fraternities and sororities to attend.

But did he have to sit next to her? Caroline was trying very hard to forget last night, and her epic lack of judgement, thank you very much.

It's a struggle to pay attention, not only because this meeting is incredibly boring. It's things she knows, or things she doesn't care about, petty arguments that they always have. Nothing she can really force her mind to focus on, to prevent herself from thinking about the person sitting next to her. She can hear Klaus breathing beside her, feel him brush up against her, every so often, when he shifts.

About halfway through, he slides a piece of paper towards her. It's a doodle, of her glaring at him over her shoulder as she struggles with her bra, her hair a tangled mess of curls around her bare shoulders. Underneath it he's scrawled, _'Things are back to normal? You loathe me, and there's no danger of pigs flying?'_

Caroline carefully folds the paper, so the drawing can't be seen by anyone who happens to look over. _'Don't flatter yourself. I don't loathe you. Just think of last night as temporary insanity. I can't believe I forgot that I was mad at you.'_

His reply is quick, _'What for, this time?'_

'_HALLOWEEN!' _Caroline scribbles out, tracing over the letters so harshly she's surprised the paper doesn't rip.

Klaus lets out a rueful sigh, and seems to think about his reply, for several moments, _"Right. About that. You've been very carefully avoiding me. For two months. I had to do something to get your attention.'_

She reads it. Then reads it again, positive she must be missing something, but the words remain the same. She writes quickly, _'SERIOUSLY?! I've been planning what I wanted to do for this party since I was a freshman. And you really thought trying to steal my thunder was A GOOD IDEA?! Have you met me?'_

Klaus casts her a look that seems almost apologetic, before he bends his head to write. _'Desperate times. I just wanted you to talk to me, Caroline.'_

'_You picked a stupid way to go about that.' _She shoves the paper back at him roughly.

His next note is simple, _'I know.'_

Caroline slides the paper back, without replying, pointedly setting her pen down.

_**T Minus 5 Days**_

Caroline's running, on her favorite trail in the woods, when she feels a presence behind her. One hand goes to turn off the music she'd had pumping through her headphones, the other to her pocket where she keeps the pepper spray her mom's been stuffing in her Christmas stocking every year since she'd hit puberty.

She's yet to have to use it, but a girl can't be too careful.

She relaxes marginally when she recognizes Klaus behind her. And then she remembers that he's currently her least favorite person on the planet.

No, wait. That's not true. The idiot in her Marketing class whose notes she'd spent all night trying to decipher was number one.

Still, that doesn't mean she has any desire to converse with Klaus at the moment. Caroline picks up the pace.

And Klaus mimics her, staying just a few steps behind.

She grits her teeth, glaring over her shoulder, taking a bend that she knows will take her down a rougher, more winding path.

He follows, the jackass, until they're both sprinting.

Caroline gets fed up, her lungs burning, and comes to a stop, in the middle of the trail, sidestepping into the underbrush to prevent Klaus from plowing into her. She puts her hands on her hips, struggling to catch her breath, as he slows and jogs back to her, "What," she demands harshly, "is your problem? Why are you stalking me?"

He's also breathing heavily, and there's a light sheen of sweat on his bare chest. And of course he isn't wearing a shirt. Because clearly someone or something out there hates her, and thinks that testing her self-control on the regular is hilarious.

She will _not_ ogle him. Caroline _refuses_.

"I'm sorry, can't a man enjoy a little exercise on a beautiful morning without an interrogation? Last I checked you didn't own the entire area, Caroline."

"There are a bajillion trails in this forest. I could buy that it was a coincidence that you ended up on mine. But I pretty obviously tried to get away and _you_ followed _me_."

"Guilty, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that your arse in those pants was just too tempting a sight to resist. Tell me, are you even wearing knickers?"

Caroline's jaw drops, and her hand whips out. She's never slapped any one in her life, as dramatic as she can occasionally be, but she's pretty sure her brain's short circuited in shock.

But Klaus chuckles, low and teasing, catching her wrist well before it reaches him, stepping into her and making her stumble back a few steps, until her back hits a tree. He pins her arm above her head, his other hand resting low on her hip, "Let's not get violent, love. You know you like my face."

Caroline makes a frustrated noise, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on the tree. Klaus' head drops to her shoulder, his mouth sliding over the strap of her sports bra, and up her neck, "Tell me to let you go, Caroline."

She tries to make herself. Really, she does. But between the low voice in her ear, the way he smells, and how amazing he feels, pressed against her, it's just not possible.

She'll chalk this one up to adrenaline. A runner's high. Something.

She brings her thigh up, wraps it around his hip. Klaus lets out a groan, when she grinds herself against his hardening cock, the thin layers of material between them doing little to dull the sensation. "Just don't talk," she orders him, "and touch me."

He grins against her skin, bites down on her collarbone in retribution. Caroline moans, rocking against him, even as she grits out, "If that left a mark I'm going to be pissed."

"Let's see what I can do to change your mind, hmm?" He pulls her sports bra off, after a slight struggle. And then he bends to suck a nipple into his mouth. His hand quickly wanders down her stomach, as his foot nudges her legs further apart.

She's clutching his shoulders, probably leaving marks of her own. Klaus plucks at the waistband of her leggings and her eyes crack open to glare down at him. He's watching her and she shudders, as he scrapes his teeth over the nipple in his mouth. He releases it, blowing a stream of air until it tightens into a tight peak, before standing up and pressing his chest against hers.

His hand slides down, under the tight Lycra, palming her ass and pulling her against him more roughly. She lets out a whimper, quickly strangled as she presses her lips together, and tilts her hips so his thrusts catch her clit.

She uses her grip on him to bring him closer, pressing her mouth to his in hopes that kissing him will stop the embarrassingly needy sounds that want to spill from her lips.

He bites her lip, rubs his tongue against hers, swallowing the moans that spill from her eagerly.

Their motions roughen, hips clashing together frantically, and Caroline tears her mouth away with a groan. "Klaus," she gasps, "I can't…"

He seems to get what she's trying to say, stopping and pushing her leg down, spinning her so her back's resting against his chest. "You can't come like that?" he rasps, into her hair, "good to know."

One of his hands delves down the front of her leggings, two fingers curving up and into her. She lets out a ragged moan, pressing her forehead to the bark, as the heel of his hand rubs her clit, and his free hand kneads her breast. "Better?" he mutters. Caroline nods, even though the answers probably pretty obvious, from the way she's frantically moving against his hand, chasing the orgasm that had been just out of reach before.

He lets out a moan of his own when she reaches behind her, cupping him through his sweatpants. The angle makes her clumsy, but he doesn't seem to mind the lack of finesse, pressing into her hand as she shapes him through the fabric.

She's so close, her mind hazy, but Klaus let's out an, "Oh, shit," that sounds more alarmed than aroused, tearing his hands away from her. He bends to pick up her sports bra, hissing that someone's coming, as he urged her deeper into the cover of the trees.

Caroline stumbles, her legs not quite cooperating, the ache in her core distracting, and Klaus steadies her. They crouch down, behind some thick bushes, and Caroline holds her breath, crossing her fingers that whoever's passing is too focused on their workout to notice anything amiss. Several pairs of feet pound the earth, in a steady pattern, none stilling. After it's silent for a few minutes Caroline lifts her head, peeking over, finding that she and Klaus are once again alone. She flushes, realizing that she's half naked, in the forest, and that minutes ago had been spectacularly close to getting off on Klaus' fingers.

How had she gotten here?

Caroline clears her throat, crossing her arm over her breasts, and holding out a hand, "If you wouldn't mind?" she asks, gesturing to the bra that's still dangling from Klaus' fingertips.

He sighs, and hands it over, running his hand through his disheveled curls, "Caroline, we should talk about this."

"No," she shoots back, "we really shouldn't."

_**T Minus 4 Days**_

Caroline ignores the knock at her door, burrowing her head under her pillow, "Go away!" she calls at whoever wants her attention.

She's so not in the mood for people.

The doorknob rattles, "Caroline, you have five seconds to open this door, or we're coming in," Bonnie yells sternly.

Lifting her head and rolling her eyes, Caroline stared balefully at the door, "And just how are you going to do that?"

"Do you really think I don't know how to pick lock?" Kat asks.

Caroline thinks about it for a moment. She doesn't know exactly when (or why) Kat would've picked up that particular skill, but she doesn't really doubt that her friend might have.

"Ugh, fine," she mutters, in defeat. "You win!" she says more loudly, heaving herself out of bed and unlocking the door. She doesn't bother to open it, retreating to her bed and once again burying herself under mounds of covers.

Several weights settle in next to her, and the blankets are mercilessly yanked down. Only Elena looks at all apologetic. "Sorry, Care. I brought cookies," she offers.

Caroline takes one, because a little oatmeal raisin never made a wallowing session worse, did it?

Kat's silent for as long as it takes her to swallow a bite, before she's bouncing on the bed, jostling Caroline, "Okay, what happened? You've been going full General Caroline on us, plotting to overthrow the Sigma Pi's and now you're hiding in your bedroom like a sad sack loser?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Kat makes a derisive noise, "Too bad, sweet cheeks. Spill."

Bonnie hands Caroline another cookie, "Talk to us, Caroline. We're worried."

"It's Klaus," Caroline says, after a long pause.

"Yeah, we know. Ruining your life, trying to take over Halloween, blah blah blah."

Bonnie shoots Kat a harsh glare, "What Katherine means, is what did Klaus do now?"

Caroline debates how to answer that, where to even start. She decides to start with the most recent incident, "I saw him when I went running yesterday. Things got a little intense."

"Another fight? Do you want me to beat him up?" Kat asks, perfectly earnest.

"We kind of fought. But we also kind of…"

"You banged Klaus Mikaelson in the woods?!" Kat exclaims. "No way. It's about time, Forbes."

Caroline's surprised to see both Elena and Bonnie nodding in agreement.

"What? Guys, no."

"Yeah, sorry, Care," Bonnie begins, sympathetically, "but it's beyond obvious that you guys are stupid for each other. The girls were running a pool but you've both proved far too stubborn. Final date was last year, so nobody won."

Caroline eyes them in disapproval until they begin to shift uncomfortably. Someone probably did win, given the fact that she and Klaus hooked up last year, but she's going to keep that little nugget to herself. Because putting money on her sex life was _not_ appropriate sororal behavior.

"But he was so…" she starts.

"Yeah, he was a douche freshman year," Kat interrupts. "Newsflash, Caroline, everyone was terrible then."

"But I'm…"

"Wildly attracted to him?" Bonnie interjects knowingly, "also obvious, from the way you undress him with your eyes."

"He…"

"Is so into you," Elena finishes, "For real. It's almost adorable."

"You guys don't even like him!" Caroline spits out, frustrated.

"So? You do," Kat says.

"Ugh," Caroline grumbles, her mind racing, burying her face under a pillow in defeat. "Please go away. Leave the cookies."

_**T Minus 3 Days**_

"What can I…" Caroline's smile freezes, when she sees Klaus in front of her, her voice petering out.

"Two ciders please. And a pumpkin donut," he requests politely, almost as is she's a stranger.

It sends a strange, uncomfortable feeling through Caroline, making her fumble with the cups.

"Yeah, sure," Caroline stutters, cursing the butterflies that are fluttering furiously in her stomach. And then she curses Bonnie, Elena and Kat, for putting the idea that she might have an actual thing for Klaus, instead of just a lust for his hot body, into her brain.

Because she's never been nervous around him before, and she hates that he might notice that she is now.

But Klaus still seems unusually subdued, merely nodding as he waits for his order, "It's a big crowd," he says neutrally, gesturing to the swarm of people that cover the football stadium's parking lot.

Small talk? They were really going to attempt small talk? So awkward.

"We're doing really well," she answers. "That'll be $7.00"

Klaus hands her a ten, offering her a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "Keep the change, love. It's for charity, right?"

"Thank you," Caroline replies, flashing him a grateful look and opening her change box. She focuses on tucking the money away, taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, "Hey, Klaus? Can we…"

But when she looks up he's gone, the crowd having swallowed any trace of him. The girl in front of her is looking impatient, so Caroline shakes herself, forces thoughts of Klaus out of her mind. "Sorry, what can I get you?"

_**T Minus 2 Days**_

The annual pumpkin carving contest the college's sororities and fraternities compete in is happening all around Caroline, but her eyes keep flitting over to one particular station. Klaus is there, intensely focused, sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

Because of him Sigma Pi's won the last three years running, and looking around at all the other works, Caroline sees no reason why that streak won't continue.

Caroline lacks much in the way of artistic talent, she'll be the first to admit, but tons of people show up every year, and she's always enjoyed herself before. Usually she'd be mingling, laughing with her friends and eating toasted pumpkin seeds. But she feels almost morose this year, unsettled.

And it's all Klaus' fault.

And okay. She'll admit that she's hardly an innocent, wronged party.

She's maybe a little embarrassed to admit that maybe her friends had a point, and she'd held his early behavior against him.

But he had been insufferable. His brother Elijah had been the president of his fraternity, basically guaranteeing Klaus an easy in, and he'd let everyone know it. He'd taken an interest in her immediately, at freshman orientation, and he had been very obvious about it.

Caroline might have been a teeny bit flattered, because he had been hot, and the accent had been very appealing.

They'd had lunch together, and he'd spent a fair amount of time glued to his phone, and Caroline had felt awkward, like she wasn't interesting enough. When he'd asked her out again, she'd turned him down, a little bit of her bitchy high-school persona coming out, in the not so nice way she'd done it.

He'd tried again, and she'd flatly rejected him a second time. He'd begun snapping back at her and eventually they'd slipped into a semi antagonistic relationship that occasionally slipped into flirting. She was still attracted to him, but had always told herself not to go there, because she'd convinced herself he was an uber dick.

Even if she'd seen little glimpses, throughout the years, that had made her think he could be more than that.

And one of those little glimpses might have been what had led her to kissing him last year. Caroline hadn't meant to take it further but it had just felt really, really good, the way he looked at her intoxicating, like he'd been afraid she'd disappear if he closed his eyes.

He glances up, catches her staring at him.

Caroline thinks about looking away, pretending she hadn't seen him, and going back to willfully ignoring him, like she had since classes had started in September.

But she doesn't want to.

So she throws him a wave, motions to his pumpkin, and gives him a grin and a thumbs up.

Klaus glances around him, as if he can't believe she means him.

Caroline feels a little pang of guilt, at his puzzled expression. Has she really been that cold?

Maybe Klaus was right, and they should talk.

_**T Minus 1 Day**_

Caroline feels like an idiot, standing on the front lawn of Klaus' frat house, throwing pebbles at the window of the room that she _thinks_ belongs to him. She's never been up there, only had Kat's sketchy memory (one of her hazing tasks had been to sneak in and steal something that belonged to Elijah Mikaelson – one of his ties still decorated her bedpost) to go on.

She probably could have just texted him.

But she was here now, and she refused to chicken out.

She tosses another handful up, a little harder, wincing at the clinks they make when they hit the glass. Finally, a light flicks on, and the windows open. Klaus is there, poking his head out, looking sleepy and bewildered.

"Caroline? What are you…"

She cups her hands around her mouth, whisper-shouting, "Can you come down?"

He ducks back inside, and Caroline really hopes that's a yes, as she walks over to the front door, shifting nervously. It feels like ages, until he gets downstairs, and swings the door open, peering out at her cautiously. "Hi," Caroline says, "I know it's late but…"

Klaus puts a finger to his lips, gestures for her to come inside. He points upstairs, and Caroline nods, following him up, and through the hallways. He opens the door to what must be his room and lets her in ahead of him. He grabs a sweatshirt from a chair and hands it to her, "You look cold, love."

Caroline smiles gratefully, pulling it on, and then sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed, crossing her ankles, "Thanks. Sorry for just showing up. I couldn't sleep and I wanted to talk to you. I feel like things have gotten out of hand. With us."

Klaus expression shutters, "I see."

"I think I maybe overreacted, about the party, storming in here and throwing a tantrum," Caroline admits sheepishly, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

"I canceled the party," Klaus tells her. "Put Kol's overly large mouth to work, sent him and all the freshmen out to spread the word. Anyone who shows up here will be directed to your house."

Caroline looks up, startled, "You didn't have to do that, Klaus. It's just a party."

"But it's important to you," he says seriously.

"Oh," Caroline blinks up at him, feeling touched. And a little more convinced, that he really did like her. "Thank you. Would you, maybe, want to be my date?" Caroline asks shyly, testing the waters.

Klaus eyebrows furrow, "I'm a bit confused, love. You said things got out of hand and I'd assumed you meant," he waved his hand vaguely between the two of them.

Caroline shook her head, "I don't regret the sex, Klaus. Not last summer, not this week. I meant more the other stuff. I treated you a certain way that maybe wasn't fair to you. I kind of shudder a little to look back on what I was like my first couple of months here. I shouldn't hold your just out of high school self against you either."

"I was a bit of a twat," Klaus remarks, sitting down next to her.

"I'm not entirely sure what that means, but if you say so. I was really insecure, and kind of a bitch."

He grabs her hand and squeezes it reassuringly, "Why don't we just forget about all of it?" he offers hopefully.

Caroline nods, immediately, flipping her hand and tangling her fingers with his. "I'd like that," she says. She lifts her other hand, to smother a yawn, immediately after. She closes her eyes for a second, before turning to him, "You didn't answer my question," she says lightly, trying to sound casual.

"Yes," he answers. "I'll go with you."

She might be grinning like an idiot, but the expression on his face is equally thrilled, so she can't feel too bad.

"Great," Caroline says, before she turns away, yawning again. "I should get going."

"You could stay," Klaus offers, "just to sleep?"

Caroline glances back, at his very large, very comfortable looking bed, and then at the door, thinking about the long walk back to her house, in the cold.

It's a really easy choice.

She nods her agreement and then Caroline stands, toeing off her shoes, and wriggling out of her jeans. Klaus hits the lights, and pulls off his shirt, and they climb in on opposite sides of the bed, shifting to get comfortable.

She turns to face him, just able to make out his profile in the light spilling in from the window, "Night, Klaus."

He smiles, when he answers, "Goodnight, Caroline."

_**Halloween**_

Caroline wakes slowly, to an unfamiliar, though pleasant sensation, against her thigh. She reaches forward, to stretch her arms out, only to find there's something, someone, warm and solid and laughing in front of her, making it impossible. She cracks her eyes open to see Klaus staring at her, his eyes bright with amusement, "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to push me out of my own bed, sweetheart."

She lifts her arms over her head, stretching with a groan, noting that it's Klaus' fingers, tracing over the bare skin of her thigh that had awoken her, and that she'd somehow hitched her leg over his hip in the night.

Might as well make the most of that.

Caroline gets an arm under her, uses her grip on him to roll him over, and sits up, straddling Klaus' waist. He doesn't seem the least bit upset with his new position, especially when she peels his sweatshirt, and everything she'd been wearing under it, up and over her head, shaking out her hair so it lays on her shoulders.

She probably looks terrible, but Klaus still looks up at her in wonder.

Klaus pulls himself up, palms smoothing down her bare back, "Good morning, Caroline," he mumbles against her shoulder, dropping a kiss there.

Caroline smirks, pushing him back down, leaning in until their lips are nearly brushing, "Happy Halloween, Klaus."

**Got A Hold On Me**

**(Prompt from an Anon: ****little red riding hood/ big bad wolf halloween au. Title from Howlin' For You by The Black Keys. Smut.)**

Getting 'hammered,' to borrow Elijah's term, on Halloween, has become something of a tradition for Klaus, in the last few decades. Sometimes he throws a party, sometimes he finds one.

Last year he'd trounced a group of football players at beer pong, having wandered onto a university campus. He'd eaten the quarterback, and gone home with the poor fellow's leggy blonde girlfriend.

The year before that he'd celebrated at a pub in Stockholm, with Akvavit and woman who'd been dressed like Marilyn Monroe.

Three years ago he'd made a command appearance at a black tie masquerade Rebekah had thrown in New York City, her current stomping grounds. Klaus had drunk ten thousand dollars' worth of champagne, and had woken up on a stranger's balcony, dressed in an entirely different costume then he'd started the evening in.

Rebekah had been most displeased.

The quality of the liquor varies with the company, but Klaus isn't overly fussy, so long as it gets the job done, and he's pleasantly intoxicated by the end of the night.

On this particular All Hallow's Eve he's back in New Orleans, for the first time in years. He'd been in the neighborhood, or at least within a few states, so he thought he might as well pop in and check up on Marcel, see how his old friend was faring.

And, since he'd personally taught Marcel how to throw a party properly, Klaus had assumed he'd be in for a good one.

It's early still, and Klaus is only halfway through a bottle of bourbon, and so far the crowd is mostly tourists, and the vampires Marcel allows to inhabit the city.

None that Klaus finds particularly interesting. He'd terrorized Joshua, for old time's sake, but the boy had quickly been sent off by Marcel. Honestly, Josh had more than half a century, under his belt. Wasn't that a bit too many years to justify being coddled?

The club Marcel prefers to throw events at had a line wrapping around the block, when Klaus had arrived, and the place is packed. Klaus assumes that city officials have been bribed and/or compelled to ignore the fire codes.

It's what Klaus would have done.

He'd forgone a costume, and a few people toss him puzzled looks, but Klaus is unconcerned. He motions for another drink, and leans back against the bar, scanning the crowd, to see if anyone, or anything, peaks his interest.

Overall, a disappointing start.

Klaus is considering retreating to the second level, with a bottle for company, just until things pick up, when he catches a brilliant flash of red, across the room.

It's a satin hood, pulled up over a woman's head, obscuring her face. A few golden blonde curls peek out, contrasting against the color of the fabric. She's walking across the dancefloor, making a beeline for Marcel, weaving in and out of the humans with a grace that leaves Klaus certain that she's a vampire.

He'll have to make her acquaintance, he decides. Because a blonde, all dressed up like Little Red Riding Hood, seems like just the thing to liven up Klaus' night.

* * *

He finishes his drink, keeping an eye on the lady in red, watches as Marcel grins and laughs as they converse.

Not a bore then, which was a good sign.

She never turns, never gives him even a glimpse of her features. She's tall, of a height with Marcel, but that's about all he can see. Klaus isn't able to make out much of her form, between the billowy cloak that serves as her costume, and the rapidly expanding crowd getting in his way.

No matter. He's bedded all sorts of women, in his thousand years. It's exceedingly unlikely that she'll be the least attractive of the bunch.

And, if the odds aren't in his favor, there are plenty of other women here.

He makes his way over, and Marcel looks up when he notices Klaus' proximity, smirking slightly in a way that makes Klaus pause. It was an anticipatory look, almost gleeful, and Klaus hadn't the faintest idea of its origin.

"Marcellus!" Klaus calls, when he's close enough to be easily heard over the thumping bass, noting the way the cloaked woman stiffens. Now wasn't that interesting? Perhaps he knows her? The only blonde mutual acquaintance of his and Marcel's that Klaus can think of is Camille, who's retired to Florida and is a doting grandmother, these days.

The woman's costume reveals an almost indecent amount of toned leg, and the matching glossy heels are high and spindly. The exact opposite of matronly.

"Fantastic party," Klaus tells Marcel, his eyes on the mystery woman, who's yet to acknowledge him. "Won't you introduce me to your lovely friend?"

Marcel's answer is filled with amusement, "I'm afraid introductions won't be necessary."

Klaus is just about to ask him what he means, when he senses the woman moving. She turns towards him, the hood slipping back, revealing her face. A face Klaus knows, though he's not set eyes on it, except when he pages through old sketchbooks, for close to sixty years.

A small smile curves lips painted ruby red, and Caroline Forbes says, "Hello, Klaus."

It's the nearest Klaus' jaw has ever come to dropping in shock.

Marcel must notice, because he turns a laugh into a cough (not very convincingly), before he steps away, murmuring, "I'll leave you two to catch up. Don't be a stranger, Caroline."

That snaps Klaus out of the near daze he'd been in, "How do you know Marcel, Caroline?" he demands, casting a suspicious look at the man's retreating back.

Caroline shrugs, "At this point? I guess you could say we're old friends."

Klaus feels a quick flash of jealousy, hot and stomach twisting, when he considers the implications of that statement. He's debating the best way to pry, to ascertain exactly how _friendly_ they'd been, when Caroline offers the information freely, "Completely non-sexual old friends, FYI. I thought it would be super weird to sleep with him, once he told me how you two know each other, even if he is smoking hot."

Klaus relaxes marginally, "And how long have you two been friends, love?"

"God, like forty years now? I lived here for a bit.

"In New Orleans?" Klaus asks skeptically. Because that seems like the sort of thing he should have known. And something he'll definitely be discussing with Marcel.

"Mmm hmm," Caroline confirms. "I did the human thing, in Dallas. Then, when people started to make comments about how old I looked, I took off. Did some travelling. When I wanted to settle down again I decided to try a more vampire friendly city, and this one had come highly recommended," she shoots him a significant look. "But alas, the tour guide I was looking for was long gone. Marcel kindly stepped in. Had all sorts of interesting stories."

"I've discovered I'm not much for standing still," Klaus tells her, by way of explanation. He shifts closer, until her back's pressed against the wall, and he's scant inches away. Caroline doesn't seem to mind, her posture relaxed. He tests her, reaching out to play with a curl.

She doesn't shy away, instead shifts her legs, the inside of her knee grazing the outside of his.

Caroline expression turns thoughtful, as she studies him, "I think that's something we have in common, these days. I only lasted three years here, and then I was off again. Haven't stayed anywhere longer than that since. But I've always loved Marcel's Halloween parties. I usually try to get back for them."

Klaus grins, "A high compliment from you. I recall your standards for such events were exacting."

She rolls her eyes, though a tiny smile forms at the corner of her mouth, as she shoves him gently, "I've mellowed in my old age, thank you."

"If you say so, sweetheart," Klaus tells her, ever so slightly patronizing.

Her eyes narrow, and her gaze rakes him up and down, "It's true! If I hadn't I'd be lecturing you about how inappropriately you're dressed." She reaches out, tugs on his shirt, "Seriously, Klaus, did you buy like a hundred of these in 2013? I swear I recognize this Henley."

She doesn't drop her hand, snaking it around his side. She leans slightly into him, as if she needs to be closer to hear him better, even though they both know that her vampiric senses have no trouble cutting through all the background noise.

Klaus isn't about to question her, however. He's intrigued, by her behavior, and the warmth of her palm on his body is the opposite of unpleasant.

"I'm afraid not. Though I'll admit I'm not one to follow trends. There have been some dreadful ones, I'm sure you've noticed. As for the costume, there's nothing I could pretend to be that would be more frightening than what I am, so why bother?"

Caroline scoffs, "I see your ego's as healthy as ever. And how many people really know you're the big bad hybrid? They probably think you're just super lazy or uncreative."

"Enough," Klaus says, glancing back over the crowd. When he turns back to Caroline he lets his eyes drop down, slowly perusing her body, before looking back at her face, at the way her tongue darts out the wet her lower lip. "And the people who matter know that I'm neither of those things. Tell me love," Klaus says, allowing himself to touch her again, to toy with the red ribbon that holds her cloak closed. "Is your costume a coincidence? It is a message? Did Marcel tell you I'd be here?"

"Do you believe in coincidence?" Caroline asks him curiously.

Klaus answer is instantaneous, "Not even a little bit."

"Smart."

"I like to think so."

Another eye roll, and a shake of her head, is all that Klaus gets in reply to his boasting. He's almost disappointed until Caroline begins to move.

She edges slightly to the side, peering behind him, and a mischievous light entering her eyes. She steps into Klaus, and when she speaks again, her voice is a low, suggestive, hum in his ear, "I think you should ask me to dance. Assuming, of course, that you know how to do that kind of dancing." She gestures to the floor, where people are pressed up against one another, moving feverishly to the music pumping through the club.

It's not his favorite pastime, by far. But Klaus isn't one to back away from a challenge, and he's not about to turn down a golden opportunity to have Caroline pressed against him.

* * *

Klaus isn't aware of how much time has passed while they've been dancing. He's aware of very little, besides the scent of her skin, and the slip of satin, heated by their bodies, between them. He's got his hands on her waist, and they itch to slide down, to touch the bare skin of her thighs.

He has a sneaking suspicion that she's wearing very little, under the costume, his skimming hands have come across no wires or seams, and he can make out her nipples, the hard points of them pressing temptingly against the fabric, when he looks down.

She's becoming impatient, he thinks. Her face is flushed, and her nails bite into the skin of his neck, the motions of her hips grow more provocative, and insistent, with each passing song. A particularly rough grind of her arse against his cock, which had been straining his zipper since the first time she'd sneaked her hand under his shirt, has Klaus muffling a moan in her shoulder.

She does it again, and Klaus retaliates, letting his lips graze her skin with purpose, rasping his tongue over the curve where her shoulder meets her throat.

Caroline shivers against him, and her head tips back against him. She turns her head slightly, her nose grazing his neck. "I'm not sure who's teasing who anymore. Take me home, Klaus."

He stills, whirls her to face him, "A bed, this time? I see the appeal, Caroline. And I'm very tempted. Is this just another interlude? You sating your curiosities, only to flit away, when we're done? What do you want me to promise this time?"

Instead of answering, Caroline takes his hand. He allows her to lead him out of the club, and down the street a ways, before she lets go. Her hands twist together, and her eyes flit about nervously. "I'm not going to make you promise to stay away, Klaus. I came looking for you, remember? I think that means you're released, don't you?"

"I'm never entirely sure what you mean, love," Klaus confesses quietly.

Caroline takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and looking him in the eye. "Fine. You want direct? What are you doing tomorrow, Klaus? Because I was thinking about going to Paris. I was too late for that New Orleans tour you offered, but I seem to remember that's not the only place you wanted to take me. So how about it?"

Klaus reaches for her, without consciously deciding to, the tiny tremor in her voice convincing him she means it. He's got his hands in her hair, and his lips are millimeters from hers, so close that he can feel the quick gusts of air her rapid breaths are letting out. "Be very sure, before offering me this chance, Caroline," he warns. "Because I intend to make the most of it, love. The places I can show you. The things I can teach you. I'll make sure you'll never want to go back."

"I'm sure," Caroline says, her blue eyes wide and serious. "I…"

Klaus takes her mouth hungrily, thrusting his tongue past her lips and rubbing it against hers. Caroline moans, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

He'll be sure to ask her to finish that sentence. Later.

* * *

They stumble into his house, barely noticing when they crash into an end table, and a lamp smashes to the floor. They'd managed to speed here, and Klaus is thankful that the populace of New Orleans remained willfully oblivious to the supernatural, because they'd not been at all discrete.

It had been a struggle, not to let his hands wander under her cloak, to see if his guesses had been correct. Caroline's not been quite so circumspect. She's torn his shirt off, two blocks ago, and his belt had been undone before they'd set foot on the porch.

She whips it out of the loops, tossing it aside, her hands going for the button of his jeans.

But Klaus steps back, out of her reach. Confusion, and irritation flit across her face. "Klaus. Pants off. Now."

Her eagerness is more than gratifying, sending a jolt to his cock, and he wonders if it would really be so bad, to strip away the rest of his clothes, wrap her legs around his waist, and take her against a wall. It's not like they won't have time for other things.

They have all the time in the world.

But he'd been perfectly serious, earlier. He wants to show her the world. Food, art, music. All of the genuine beauty he'd tried to tempt her with back in Mystic Falls. He wants to teach her what it really means, to be immortal.

And he wants to show her the heights he's capable of bringing her body to. The time they'd spent together in the forest had been delicious. But they'd been rushed, frantic, the location less than ideal.

He'd not trade those hours for anything, but he'd be lying if he said he'd not thought back, considered how he could improve upon them.

And now he has his chance.

"Take that off, Caroline," Klaus instructs lowly, eyes on the red satin that covers her.

A tiny smirk crosses her lips, but she doesn't make a move to undress, spinning on a heel, and mounting the staircase. She moves slowly, glancing over her shoulder when she's halfway up, tipping her head as if to ask him what he's waiting for.

"Where are you going, love?" he calls after her.

"You're bedroom," she replies. "A little direction, might be helpful though. This place is ridiculous."

Klaus easily passes her on the stairs, and darts down the hallway, leaning against the wall outside of his room.

"Showoff," Caroline mutters, when she passes him.

She doesn't bother looking around, and when she turns to face him, her fingers are slowly pulling the ribbon at her throat apart. It had been tightly laced, down the middle of her chest, and she pulls it away, out of the holes, letting it flutter to the ground. Her neckline gapes open, the curves of her breasts visible. She pushes it down, first one shoulder than the other, letting the satin fall to the floor.

Klaus swallows harshly, taking in all the bare skin she's shamelessly revealed.

It's always good to be right.

Caroline steps out of her costume, and walks towards Klaus. This time he doesn't protest, when she undoes his zipper, when she hooks her thumbs into his boxer briefs, and drags them down his hips.

But when they're equally naked, and she moves to touch him, Klaus scoops her up, delighting in the surprised squeal she lets out, setting her down in the middle of the bed, insinuating his body into the cradle of her thighs.

She glares up at him playfully, her hair spread out on his pillows, "Can't a girl make a move, around here?"

Klaus leans down, brushes his mouth against hers, "Later. If you'd like. Though I plan for you to be far too exhausted.

Caroline makes a protesting noise, but Klaus swallows it, reacquainting himself with the taste of her. Her hips press up, and he can feel the heat of her, against his stomach. He pulls his mouth from hers, littering kisses down her body, drawing on his memories, for the places that make her shiver and moan.

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, bringing a hand up to roll the other one, increasing the pressure as her breaths turn ragged.

She's restless under him, thighs clenched around his hips, but Klaus keeps moving down. He tastes the skin over her ribs, feels the muscles of her stomach clench when he scrapes his teeth over them. He kisses her navel, circles it playfully with his tongue.

He drags his mouth lower, and Caroline's thighs widen, her eyes watching him intently, fingers twisted in the sheets.

She lets out a groan when he bypasses where she wants him. Klaus can smell her arousal, can see how wet she is. It's a test of his resolve, because he wants to rear up, to work his cock into her, feel her slick and hot, clamped around him. But he needs to have her writhing and mindless before he's inside of her.

He wants her eyes clouded and her voice hoarse, his name the only word she's capable of uttering.

He works his way down the length of her legs, applies his teeth to the soft skin of her inner thigh. Watches the faint red mark fade back to pretty porcelain.

"Klaus," Caroline moans, her back arching, "Come on."

"Did you want something, love?" Klaus asks, deceptively casual, as he works her shoes off. "My mouth, perhaps? My tongue inside you, or playing with your clit? Or maybe my teeth, in your thigh, as you ride my fingers."

Her knees draw up, her toes digging into the bed. She hisses out a, "Yes," drawn out and pleading.

"That's not an answer," Klaus teases, letting a finger ghost over her slit.

"Just do something, Klaus. Please."

"If you insist," he murmurs. He slides his hands under her knees, pressing her thighs upwards, before he dips his head, and pushes his tongue inside of her. She can't move against him, like this, and her head thrashes against the pillows, a hand reaching down and sliding through his hair. She tugs, urging him higher, and Klaus takes the hint, licking a broad stripe upwards, before tracing tight circles around her clit.

It doesn't take long before her legs begin to tremble, under his grip, and she's moaning nearly constantly, her hand tugging at his hair riding the edge of pain.

It crosses the line, sending a sharp jolt down his spine, her moan becoming a scream, when Klaus turns his head, and digs his fangs into her thigh.

He makes a noise of his own, his eyes falling shut, as her blood spills across his tongue. He allows himself a few blissful mouthfuls, his fingers rubbing her clit, before he rears up, and slides inside of her, just as she comes apart.

It's harder than he'd like it to be, to hold on, especially when her legs wrap around him, dragging him deeper into her clenching body. Her hands are clawing at his back, as she shudders through it, her eyes wild on his, face tight with pleasure.

He waits for her to relax under him, before he moves his hips, sliding out of her slowly, before rocking back in. She lets out a whimper, before inhaling sharply, "Klaus, I don't know if I…"

"Shh. Yes you can," he tells her, maintaining his gentle pace until she starts to meet his thrusts. He speeds up then, tilting his head in invitation. Caroline kisses his throat, runs her tongue along the artery, "Bite, love," he encourages her hoarsely, his thrusts picking up as he feels his own release coil, "I want you to come when you drink from me."

She lets out a moan, and he feels her fangs prick his skin for a moment, and then the faint stab of her biting down. She drinks deep, and he feels her pulsing around him, the ecstatic noise that falls from her telling him she's fallen over the edge again.

Klaus lets himself go, sensation arcing through his body, shoving deep and riding it out, quaking against Caroline's softness.

He feels her fangs slip out, closes his eyes when she licks the wound until it's closed, rests his head next to hers, as his heart slows. Caroline runs her hands down his back. She clears her throat, "You know, I was skeptical about the whole exhaust me thing, but I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't have been."

Klaus smiles against her skin, sitting up and flipping her over, her body pliant and willing. He bends to press a kiss to her spine, holding her gaze as she peers over her shoulder at him in interest.

"That almost sounded like a challenge, sweetheart," Klaus mutters, absently, working his way down vertebrae by vertebrae, "And I do enjoy those."


	22. 25DaysofKlaroline15 - Day 2 and Day 6

**Notes: **Two drabbles written for the #25daysofKlaroline event the lovely people at klarolineshippersclub have put together! All sorts of great things have been posted!

**Tell Me About Myself**

**(Written for Day 2 – Season 4 of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Prompt from livingdeadblondequeen: Canon S4 first time meeting after Klaus is returned to his body. Title from 'Mexican Cousin' by Phish. Rated K+).**

Caroline was the first person out of the locker room – she was irritable, and overdue for a snack of the blood variety, and she thought it was best for her squad's safety (and her chances at snagging the big trophy at the meet the day after tomorrow) if she removed herself from the situation.

It's just starting to get dark, and cars are scattered throughout the parking lot. She rounds the corner of a ginormous gas guzzling SUV (and seriously, was that necessary? Talk about overcompensating). She jumps, when a figure straightens from where it had been slouched against the back bumper, letting her bag fall to the ground as her fangs drop and her hands curl, in anticipation of a threat.

Her sharpened vision recognizes Klaus immediately and she steps back, dropping her head and cursing her high ponytail, willing her vampire features away. Klaus steps forward, his head tipped curiously to the side, interested eyes on the slowly receding veins.

His eyes always see too much.

Caroline bends to pick up her bag, making sure her face is back to normal before she faces him. She lifts her head defiantly, crossing her arms over her midriff.

She really should have changed out of her workout clothes.

"Hanging out in high school parking lots?" she asks, sickly sweet. "Try to act _less_ like a dirty old man, Klaus."

He grins, completely unoffended, and Caroline makes to stomp past him, "Have you seen my darling sister?" he calls after her, and Caroline pauses.

Technically she hasn't, not since fifth period. But she _does_ know where Rebekah is, knows she's at the grill, drilling Matt on Trig between customers. And since Caroline wants Matt to graduate, and she'd rather he _not_ end up dead, solely because Klaus is a whole other level of psychotic control freak with family hoarding issues, she decides to attempt some misdirection.

Caroline turns, grudgingly answering, "Not since this afternoon. She left with April Young."

Caroline winces internally, at the lie, keeping her face perfectly neutral. But, she rationalizes, April's the blandest, least offensive human in existence. Surely such a mouse would be beneath Klaus' notice?

Klaus lets out a hum, the very definition of non-committal, and Caroline has no idea if he'd bought her fabrication. He's moving forward to encroach upon her space again. Caroline shifts back warily, "If that's all, I need a shower and a blood bag and I've got an essay to finish, so…"

"Tell me, Caroline," Klaus says, "how long will you play at this? At being an ordinary human?"

So not what she'd expected, and a little personal, considering she was still super pissed at him.

"Bekah does it, every so often. Finds a nice boy to dote on her, girls who'll jump when she snaps her fingers. They're like toys, and she usually breaks them, when she'd bored, or frustrated or angry."

Caroline lets out a sigh, "Is there a point here, Klaus?"

"It doesn't suit you, Caroline. This town, this life."

"Yeah," she snaps, "so you've said. Excuse me if I don't take your word for it."

"Still miffed, then?" Klaus inquires mildly.

"I brushed my teeth fourteen times," Caroline informs him.

"That can't be good for them," Klaus remarks, sounding amused. "And it's somewhat pointless, is it not? Considering the relationship between you, and my hybrid."

"I kissed you," Caroline spits out. "You saw me…" she makes a jerky gesture, down her body. Klaus eyes stay on her face. Smart, since she's not entirely sure she could have resisted the urge to punch him, if he got smarmy with her right now.

Klaus' face sobers, "While I regret the circumstances, Caroline, I did save you from The Council. While I was in a far more vulnerable form, mind."

"Do you want a cookie?" Caroline shoots back.

It's not that she wanted to be tortured again, far from it. But she'd thrown herself at him. At Klaus. Would it have killed him to have spoken up, before she'd humiliated herself, and started getting naked? Her bra hadn't even been cute.

A dark, frustrated, look crosses Klaus' face, "I've never had much of a sweet tooth. But I wouldn't say no to a little gratitude."

"You should have said no when I kissed you!" Caroline exclaims, throwing her hands up.

"I did," he grits out. "I tried. You were insistent, love."

"A 'oh, by the way, I'm actually Klaus' probably would have worked wonders, just so you know."

"I wasn't supposed to be alive," Klaus explains calmly. "You can't expect me to trust you, Caroline. Not when you're always game to help in your friends' tedious little plots to take me out. And I did tell you, in the end."

"A little late," Caroline insists tightly.

"Earlier than I could have," Klaus counters, an edge in his tone revealing his less than even temper. "Do you think about that, Caroline? I could have pretended to be Tyler, could have had you pressed against a tree and moaning for me. I daresay I'd have done a better job than that fumbling boy you're so devoted to. You'd have been none the wiser, for days."

Caroline takes a step back, swallows hard against the acidic lump in her throat. She asks the question that's been plaguing her, without really meaning to, "Why didn't you?"

Klaus lets her retreat, hands locked behind his back, "You know why," he tells her, softly, eyes intent on hers.

"No I don't," Caroline denies, shaking her head. "Whatever this thing you have for me is, I'm not an idiot, Klaus. You don't want to hold my hand and buy me milkshakes. You could have gotten what you'd wanted from me and been done with it."

She bites her tongue, hard enough to draw blood, before 'and you wouldn't have been the first' comes flying out of her mouth. That's not something Klaus needs to know about. Not something _she_ should be thinking about.

Klaus waits for her to focus back on him, his eyes flicking over her face, before he speaks again. "Don't play dim. You _know_ that my interests are not purely sexual. I'd have given up, long ago, were that the case. It's hardly a struggle, to find that sort of company. I'll not claim to be a saint. Or that I don't desire to know you, intimately. But when it happens I'll be in my body, and you'll _know_ it's me."

He sounds so sure. Sure of her. Caroline has no idea how she's supposed to reply to that.

Caroline makes a derisive noise and she mumbles out a, "Whatever. My history homework awaits. It's been fun, Klaus."

"I'll be seeing you, Caroline."

She turns, tossing a half-hearted wave over her shoulder, walking quickly away before Klaus decided he wanted to chat some more.

She pulls her phone out, shooting a quick text to Matt, telling him to get out of Rebekah's orbit, since Klaus was looking for her. She hopes he takes her advice, but she can't be sure that he will.

She peeks over her shoulder, sees Klaus' taillights leaving the lot, and allows herself to relax slightly.

And then it hits her. He'd said '_when_.'

**You Never Close The Door**

**(Written for Day 6 - Crossovers of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Set very early in S6/S2 of TVD/TO. Caroline decides to reach out to an old friend for help in getting Bonnie back. Title from 'What Kind of Man' by Florence + The Machine. Rated T).**

She's just about to text Enzo, and ask him just where the _hell_ he is. He'd set off _two_ hours ago. How long did it really take, to track down and befriend a vampire, and get a general direction for Klaus? The last thing he'd texted her, _'There's a lot of wolves, in this bar'_ weighed heavily one Caroline.

Enzo was a pain in the ass, but he was kind of her pain in the ass, at this point.

He should have contacted her by know. She highly doubts that Klaus had moved quietly into the neighborhood, with barely a ripple.

It just wasn't his style.

Flashy, forceful, leaving the heads of his enemies on spikes – that was Klaus. Finding out where those spikes were mounted should have been cake.

Caroline had wanted to go with Enzo, but he'd insisted he handle the recon alone, that she just prepare herself for the second step of their plan. He'd actually winked at her, but flashed away before she could inflict bodily harm.

The second step? Asking Klaus for help, despite the fact that Caroline had sent him away.

It was kind of a dick move, she was well aware. But she'd make it, if it meant getting Bonnie back. Klaus' intentions for her, when Caroline allowed herself to think on them, spanned years, decades, centuries, even. He'd said so himself. She was sure that he'd forgive her, in time.

She'd acted like this was a spur of the moment plan, when Enzo had stopped by her apartment, and found her packing a bag. But it wasn't. Klaus had been a nagging thought in her mind for weeks.

Longer than that, if Caroline was being totally honest.

She'd devoured Alaric's books, had pages upon pages of notes, anything that might be remotely useful. He was working on getting her more, reaching out to old hunter contacts. But hunters were a paranoid bunch, Alaric had said. One of their own coming back from the dead was met with more suspicion then celebration, so it was taking time.

And Caroline didn't _have_ time.

After the disastrous trip to Savannah Caroline had wallowed a bit. Stefan had given up, on his own brother. Would he have done that, if there was another way? Should she? Was she fooling herself?

She hadn't left her apartment for three days. Until Enzo had shown up, insisting she come along to see another witch he'd tracked down. They'd argued, because she really didn't want a front row seat to Enzo working his persuasion tactics a second time. Enzo had cheerfully explained that he wasn't this particular witch's type. "Wear something nice, Gorgeous," he'd instructed. "It's time to bat those pretty eyes."

Which is how why she'd spent a Thursday night flirting with a scrawny witch, steadily getting him drunk on compelled Heineken's, until he'd been loose lipped and pliant enough to drop a decent lead.

It had been a bust, in the end, but at least the trip to Charlotte added another entry to Caroline's 'States I've Visited' list.

It was Enzo, who'd brought Klaus up first. Caroline had been kind of creeped out, by his detailed knowledge of Caroline's history with Klaus (because seriously, did Damon not have anything better to talk about?). Enzo had hinted, and nudged, and outright goaded, a knowingly superior look on his face the entire time.

Enzo was annoyingly perceptive, and had never once treated her like she was a dumb bit of blonde fluff, the way certain people tended to. He'd known she'd been thinking of playing the Klaus card, and hearing him enumerate all the reasons why she should made her wonder why she was hesitating.

'_I know you've made lists, Caroline. Your hybrid's a thousand years old. He's got to have knowledge and resources we can only dream of. And he had a thing for you. Unless you're hesitating, because you're afraid to find out that last bit's no longer true?'_

Stupid Enzo.

She'd glared him into silence, turned up the radio, and focused on the road for the rest of the trip.

But Enzo's words, which echoed her own thoughts, clanging loudly for attention, stayed with Caroline.

She'd gotten home, spent a couple days trying to track down Lucy Bennett for the umpteenth time, before she'd admitted defeat.

And plotted out the quickest way to drive to New Orleans.

"_Where're we headed, Gorgeous?"_

"_We're not headed anywhere."_

"_Nonsense. You know a road trip's no fun without me."_

She'd tried to leave him behind, but Enzo was nothing if not tenacious. She'd grumbled, but he'd been comfortably buckled into her passenger seat, when they'd but Mystic Falls in her rearview.

Caroline had tried calling Klaus, when they were about halfway there, only to find that his voicemail was full, and texts went unanswered. She'd been worried, but had tried to hide it. It was silly, Caroline told herself. Klaus was basically indestructible, and the fact that she was breathing was proof enough that he was fine, wasn't it?

Rebekah's number was disconnected, adding to her unease. She'd briefly considered texting Elena to see if she still had Elijah's details, but quickly discarded the idea. One, because actually making that call would be insanely awkward and two, because she didn't want to mess with Elena's already messed up memories.

She'd kept driving, chewing her lip, eventually confessing that she had no idea where to actually find Klaus. Enzo had taken that information in stride, and seemed confident that finding Klaus would be a simple enough task, once they got to New Orleans.

"_It's not a very big place, is it? I'll ask around, be discrete. Have an address right quick, don't you worry."_

Had he met her? Caroline excelled at worrying.

She almost drops her phone, when it finally rings. It's a street name, followed by another text from Enzo, '_Look for the gaudy M. And be careful. Something odd's afoot in this town._'

She replies with a thank you, and a plea that Enzo _try_ not do anything stupid, telling him she'll contact him later.

And then Caroline gets back in her car, types the street Enzo had given her into Google Maps, and ignores the way her hands, palms slick with nervous sweat, slip on the wheel when she drives away.

The 'M' on the gate is hard to miss.

Caroline traces it with a fingertip, studying the house in front of her. It's huge, but she would have expected that. Not as austere as the mansion in Mystic Falls had been. It also looks somewhat unkept, the lawn too long and the greenery wild, which gives Caroline pause.

She's used to the shiny face the Mikaelson's present to the world. The gleaming surfaces, and sharp edges, all of which seem to drip money. It's jarring, seeing something else.

She's in the shade of a large tree, a relief from the oppressive heat. Taking a quick glance around, finding the street deserted, Caroline uses a branch and launches herself over the high fence.

Landing neatly, half-crouched, she listens carefully. She picks up nothing from the house, but then she'd been watching for nearly fifteen minutes, and has detected no movement. Maybe they're deep inside, where her senses can't penetrate. Or maybe no one's home. Maybe The Originals have moved on.

For a moment Caroline's almost excited, by the possibility. She's decided that she'll find Klaus, and Caroline always follows through, once she's resolved. Wouldn't it be funny, if in the end, he's the reason she leaves the country?

She's not sure if he'd be happy, or if he'd hate it.

But she's getting ahead of herself.

She squares her shoulders, and crosses the lawn. Climbs the steps, and bangs the gold knocker forcefully. She's greeted by more silence, but she does it once more for good measure.

And sees a curtain flicker, out of the corner of her eye.

Her head turns, following the movement. She reaches out to knock again (so hard she might have dented the door, oops). But she receives no response.

Was he seriously going to _ignore_ her?

Caroline takes a deep breath, and opens her mouth, fully prepared to look like a lunatic and yell until Klaus deigns to come to the door, but before she can make a sound the front door's pulled open and she's yanked roughly inside.

Klaus presses her back against the wood, his hands locked around her upper arms, "You shouldn't be here, Caroline."

She feels stung by that, but rolls her eyes, not bothering to struggle, "Rude, much? How about an, 'It's good to see you, Caroline?'"

He doesn't relax, his face set in harsh lines, "It's not safe here, love. You need to leave."

She can't help the scoffing noise, and her reply is scathing, "Yeah, safe and I haven't really been on the best terms. Pretty much since that time I was smothered in my hospital bed."

Klaus' expression turns frustrated, and he pulls away, runs a hand through his hair, "I'm very serious, Caroline. You…"

"Bonnie died," Caroline rushes out, her voice cracking slightly. "Again. And it's not fair. And some stupid witches are screwing with my town. And I need your help. And I know that's not fair either. And I'm sorry, but…" she trails off helplessly, swallowing hard and blinking furiously.

She will not cry.

Klaus' stance has softened, sympathy in his eyes. Caroline takes the opportunity to study him, is shocked at the differences she catalogues.

"You look…" Caroline begins, stopping herself before she blurts out 'homeless.' Insulting him probably wasn't the best way to go. But Klaus, much like the house, looks worn down. His hair's too short, the usual scruff has turned into almost a beard. He's paler than usual, his eyes shadowed, like sleep has been elusive for a long time. Even his clothes seem ill fitting. They're streaked with paint, the shirt a strange shade of purple.

He looks older. Something that shouldn't be possible, for a vampire.

"It's been a rough year, sweetheart," Klaus says, an edge of defeat to his tone. "Why don't you come in for a drink? Since you're here."

Caroline nods, a spark of hope igniting, now that Klaus is no longer trying to kick her out, "I'd like that."

He runs a hand down her arm, his palm settling low on her back, guiding her towards a hallway, "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse a bit of a mess. We've not had much company lately."

"My mother invited you into my bedroom the first time we met, Klaus. There were bras on the doorknob."

That coaxes a flash of a smile from him, and the look he shoots her is teasing, "There were."

She elbows him lightly, feeling an answering smile cross her lips.

Klaus laughs softly, as they cross the threshold to a room. It smells like paint, and bourbon and him, canvases stacked haphazardly around the room. The windows are all covered in heavy drapes, dust thick in the air. Used glasses litter the tables, some laced with blood, some alcohol. Some probably both. Caroline wrinkles her nose, as she sits, "What's with the shut in routine, Klaus?"

There's a flash of bitterness, some anger, in his gaze, but Klaus shutters it, as he sits. "Nothing for you to worry about. Tell me what you need from me."

"That's it?" Caroline asks skeptically. "I seem to remember you being a better negotiator."

"Ah, but that was before we were friends," he remarks lightly. Her eyes are drawn to his fingers, tapping idly on the arm of the chair that he occupies. Her face heats, with memories of them, long and graceful and skilled, the single time Caroline had allowed them to be more than friends.

Klaus is watching her, eyebrows raised, a hint of a smirk on his lips, when she shakes those thoughts away. Now was definitely not the time to let her thoughts wander _that_ path, no matter how many innuendos Enzo had made. She has no idea who taught him the words 'booty call' but Caroline _really_ hates them.

Hoping she's not visibly blushing Caroline gets to her feet again, and begins gathering glasses, "What are you doing?" Klaus asks, puzzled.

"Uh, cleaning?" Caroline replies, the 'duh' implied. "I know you probably haven't done it yourself, in a couple of centuries, but this is what it looks like. It helps me think."

He shakes his head, looking faintly amused, "You don't have to…"

"I know I don't. But I'm going to. I can't resist a project. So make yourself useful, pick some stuff up, and show me to the kitchen. You're going to fill me in on what's going down here and I'm going to help you come up with a brilliant plan to smite whoever's managed to piss you off."

That actually manages to makes Klaus laugh, loud and rusty sounding, but he dutifully does as Caroline had asked.

"And then," Caroline continues, when they're both laden down, "You're going to point me in the direction of your undoubtedly impressive collection of magical books and knick knacks, and tell me everything you know about Travelers, boundary spells, and a few other things I've got written down."

"I'll endeavor to do my best. But answer me this, Caroline, what happens when you leave?" There's an edge to the question, more than just casual curiosity. "Do I expect to find you on my doorstep, the next time you and your little friends have tangled with something you shouldn't have?"

Her steps falter, but she doesn't answer, knowing that she has to choose her words carefully.

Klaus doesn't press her, and they silently load the dishwasher. He lets her root around his cupboards, when they're done, and she digs out detergent. When the mechanical whir of the appliance hums out, Caroline takes a deep breath, "Bonnie died months ago, Klaus. And the few months before that weren't exactly easy. Silas…"

"Silas?" he bites out. "Silas died."

"Not so much, as it turns out. A lot of my friends died. Most of them came back. And every time something new or terrifying happened, I'd stare at your name in my phone. But I never pressed the button. Because I don't want to use you. I mean, I told you my life can't include you, didn't I? What does it say about me that I wanted to run to you for help? That I'm here now?"

"It says that you're smart, love. A survivor. It's why you were meant to be what you are." Klaus says it like it's something she should be proud of, that ruthless streak that she's ashamed is a part of her. Because sometimes it leads her to kill people and that's not something Caroline _should_ be proud of, is it?

But that's a very human mindset, something that Caroline's not certain she can afford to have any longer.

"I'll not ask of anything in return, Caroline," Klaus continues. "And I'll not even ask that my banishment from Mystic Falls be rescinded. But…"

Caroline grimaces, and interrupts, "You can't technically go into Mystic Falls, at the moment. Unless you want to die…" she tips her head in question, "however you died. The first time."

"Sword through the heart," he tells her.

"Ouch," she commiserates, wincing in sympathy.

"It was relatively quick, at least. Surprising, considering the sword was wielded by my father."

She wants to reach out to him, but Klaus would never want her pity. So Caroline returns to the reason's she'd made the trip, "That's actually one of the problems I need your help with. The Travelers set it up so no magic can happen in Mystic Falls. And since vampires are only alive because of magic…"

"You can't go home," Klaus finishes, his voice filled with understanding.

Caroline looks at the floor, "Exactly. And since I can't be thirty, and still looking seventeen, my time there is limited as it is."

"Right," Klaus says. "And you're worried something will happen to your mother, that you won't be there when she needs you."

Her head snaps up, shocked at how well he reads her, even though they've had no contact for months. He's smiling at her fondly, "I'm adept at reading between the lines, love. Your plans, the ones that don't include me? All the things that you dreamed of, as a little girl, I would wager. The things every mother wants for their daughter. You want to show her that you'll be fine, you want her to be proud of you, even if you're a vampire."

"And you think that's stupid," Caroline surmises defensively, crossing her arms.

"You could never be stupid, love. Perhaps a bit optimistic, but I do believe cynicism comes with age."

Caroline lets out a scoff, "Along with paranoia and a touch of megalomania, I'm guessing?"

Klaus chuckles, "Glass houses, sweetheart. You're not exactly one to cede power easily, are you?"

She narrows her eyes at him, choosing to brush aside the slight sexual connotations of his statement. His too innocent expression told her they were on purpose, that he was baiting her. Klaus grins for a moment, before he sobers again, "But I've meandered. I'll stay away, give you all the space you want. But perhaps you'd consent to keep in touch? Drop me a line, when things aren't life and death."

Caroline considers it, though in her gut she knows the answer is yes. Her friends will hate it, but they'll leave her alone, if she makes them think it was a condition of his help. It'll be easy, because they'd never buy that Klaus would do something for nothing. Damon will be snide, and Elena worried. But Caroline assumes that once they resume their epic love fest they'll be too wrapped up in it to care.

Bonnie will hate that Caroline's seemingly sacrificed something for her, but she'll merely point out that Bonnie's sacrificed more. Enzo won't care, and Caroline has no idea if, or when she'll see Stefan again. Everyone else is happily ensconced in their little human bubble of Mystic Falls, and Klaus has already indicated he won't touch it.

Caroline's always secretly enjoyed talking to Klaus. The way he thinks, the things he's seen. It's fascinating, and she could have spent hours asking him questions, but she's always made herself hold back. And the way he's never made her feel stupid, or small town, or beneath him, has always been appealing.

He's leaning against the counter, watching her cautiously. Expecting her to reject him, she'd bet, since she's always done it before, and formulating a plan to get around it.

Caroline thinks she could come to enjoy screwing with his expectations.

She holds her hand out, glancing at him pointedly until he shakes, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Deal," she says decisively. "And it goes both ways. You can call me when you feel yourself going full Howard Hughes, alright? And maybe before you buy clothes. That shirt is terrible."

"It's…"

"Terrible," Caroline interrupts, waving away whatever feeble defense he was going to make. She turns to open another cupboard, "Do you have any clean glasses? I believe I was promised a drink."

"Do make yourself at home," Klaus tells her sarcastically, but he doesn't seem to mind, since he's making no attempt to stop her.

She shoots a grin over her shoulder, "Hey, you're the one who said we were friends."

And she knows he's new, to the whole friendship thing, whatever he's claimed before. So she'll go easy on him, and keep her snooping to semi-public areas. For now.


	23. Click Click Snap

**Notes:** This is my first drabble written for **klarolinesmutmas** (posting new smut until Christmas!)

**Click Click Snap**

**(Prompt from accidental-rambler: ****How about...kc+"we've been doing secret santa at work and I've given you not-so-secret nude/sexy pictures of myself and oh, now you're barging into my office, ready to take it to the next level" Please ;) + Prompt from an anon: caroline surprises klaus wearing nothing but a trenchcoat and heels. human. Title from 'Dirty Picture' by Taio Cruz ft. Kesha. Smut.)**

**Friday, December 18:**

"I am so freaking bored."

Klaus pressed his lips together, trying to avoid grinning, at the long suffering grumble that had come from his side. He snuck a glance at Caroline, and leaned over slightly to reply, "You only just got here, love."

Alone, he'd been very interested to note, though he's yet to have found a subtle way of asking her where her boyfriend is this evening. Significant others were welcome, at the company's lavish annual Christmas party, and Caroline's had been glued to her side last year.

What could be so pressing, Klaus wonders, to have him miss an evening in Caroline's company, especially considering how incredible she looked, in her silver dress with her lips painted red?

He knew he'd not liked the man.

Caroline lets out a sigh, and takes a drink of her champagne, draining the glass, before setting it on the bar they're leaning against. "I like these people. Mostly. But I think eight hours spent in their company is more than enough for one day, don't you?"

"I'm hurt, Caroline. Truly."

She rolls her eyes, not falling for his feigned offense, swaying over and bumping her shoulder into his, "Ha ha, Klaus. You know I wasn't talking about you."

"I do like to hear it, however," Klaus jokes.

She turns to him, suddenly serious, laying her hand over his. "I know things didn't start off great, but you've kind of become the best part of my weekdays."

Klaus feels his eyes widen in shock, even as his hand flips over, instinctively grasping hers. Her fingers twitch, her blue eyes turning uncertain. Caroline takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders resolutely, "I…"

She's interrupted, by the sound of a spoon tapping on glass, and the boisterous, slightly inebriated voice of their boss' boss calling everyone in for dinner.

Klaus has never hated the man more, as Caroline shifts away from him, the slightly nervous expression she'd worn falling away, to be replaced with forced cheer. "Guess that's our cue. Let's hope the food doesn't suck."

**Saturday, December 19:**

Caroline wakes up slowly, wincing when her eyes open. She's a little headachy, probably shouldn't have had so much champagne. But it had seemed like a good idea, last night. Having to make social small talk with her coworkers was tedious. And she'd totally failed at her 'Let Klaus know that you're actually kind of in to him, and see if he's still into you' plan. She'd ended up refilling her glass a few too many times.

Caroline had never really been great at dealing with failing. She wasn't used to it. And she didn't like it.

But today was another day.

With that thought in mind Caroline heaves herself out of bed and wanders into her kitchen. Coffee will help, both with the head, and with the revising her plans that needs to happen. After putting the pot on Caroline grabs the clutch she'd discarded last night, tipping its contents onto the table, so she can sort out what needs to go back into her everyday bag and what needs to be put away.

A little piece of paper flutters out last, landing on top of the pile.

It takes a second, for her to remember what it is. Her Secret Santa slip.

They'd drawn names, before dessert, as was tradition. Caroline remembers Klaus leaning into her space, to try to see who she'd gotten. She'd stuffed the paper into her bag, shooting him a dirty look (because seriously, 'secret' was right there in the name!) without looking at it, or giving Klaus a chance to see it, and promptly forgot about it.

Plucking the square up, Caroline unfolds it. She was planning on finishing up her Christmas shopping today. She's had the bulk of her list complete weeks ago, of course, but some people (Enzo and her mom) always proved more difficult to buy for and sometimes the perfect gift eluded her. Might as well take care of this, while she was at it.

She recognizes the scrawl before she registers the name.

_Klaus Mikaelson_.

She'd actually already gotten him a gift. Only appropriate for the man her friend's referred to as her 'work husband.' A box of dark chocolate sea salt caramels for the sweet tooth he pretended not to have, a monogrammed leather sketchbook, and a gift card for an art supply store that she knew he frequented. She'd wandered the aisles for a solid hour, totally lost, not sure what he'd already have or want. Who knew there were so many different kinds of pencils?

That might have been the day she'd begun to consider if everyone who'd ever pointed out that she and Klaus seemed like more than friendly coworkers maybe had a point.

It was easier to contemplate than ever before, her amicable breakup two weeks prior meaning she no longer had to feel guilty about the sex dreams she had about Klaus. Or that, occasionally, when she needed a little extra push to get off, it was Klaus' face, his voice lower and raspier with desire, that she imagined.

It was totally normal, she'd always told herself, all the women's magazines said so. And it's not like she'd ever _done_ anything about it.

The coffeepot beeps, pulling Caroline out of her musings. As she pours, she glances back over at the slip, a new idea forming.

This could be the start of a new plan, a bold plan.

And Caroline doesn't even need to leave her apartment, and fight the crowds to put together the gift she has in mind. Her camera, some of her nicer lingerie, and she thinks she'll have the perfect present.

She grins to herself, already plotting how she'd going to pose. This is going to be fun.

**Sunday, December 20:**

"Sister, you look well."

Rebekah accepted the compliment, preening and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm aware, Nik. But don't think your empty flattery's going to save you from my wrath. I can't _believe_ you're not coming home with us for Christmas."

Klaus shrugged, plucking a menu from the center of the table, "Duty calls, Bekah. I've only got four days off of work, and the idea of sitting through two, completely packed, eight hour flights in that period, all to spend time with dear old dad, is tremendously unappealing."

He could have managed more time off, had he put in the effort. He was due several vacation days, and things slowed down considerably, around the holidays. Caroline, for example, was taking two extra days, had checked with him before requesting them, knowing that he'd be the one covering her duties.

He'd assured her it was fine, knowing she wanted to spend time with her mother, after Liz Forbes' recent health scare.

And the idea of spending a quiet Christmas alone, of not having to shrug off Mikael's thinly veiled contempt, or his mother's attempts at glossing over awkward pauses, or listen to Finn and Sage's pack of spoiled ginger terrors shriek, and rampage through the house, suited Klaus just fine.

He saw the siblings he liked (or tolerated, in Kol's case) often enough.

Rebekah pouts, "Henrik will miss you."

It's a low blow, but Klaus is prepared, "Which is why I've arranged for him to fly out here and stay with me for ten days before his new semester begins at the end of January. He seemed quite excited, last we spoke."

His sister's lips thin. "You've thought of everything then, haven't you?" Rebekah scoffs, waving a waiter over.

"Don't I always?" Klaus counters mildly, his eyes scanning the pages in front of him. Rebekah gets petty, when thwarted, so he needs to make up his mind quickly.

She doesn't often fail to get her way. Klaus thinks it's good for her. Perhaps one day she'll learn to deal with it gracefully.

**Monday, December 21:**

"Come in!" Caroline calls, in response to the tapping at her door. She knows it's Klaus, even before he strolls in, and helps himself to one of her chairs. He's knocked the same way since her first day here, more than two years ago.

He'd been semi obnoxious, in the beginning. But once he'd stopped trying to actively get into her pants she'd been able to see past that, and find him likable. Charming, even. Mostly when he wasn't trying to be. He'd begun to express genuine interest in her. She'd found it suspicious, initially, but he'd persevered, and before long they were tentative friends.

She'd never have guessed that things would progress, as they have. He's probably one of her best friends. And she wants more.

Klaus waits patiently, and Caroline finishes typing out the email she'd been working on, smiling across her desk at him, once she hits send. "Hey, what's up?" she asks.

Klaus leans back, crossing his ankle over his knee, "Nothing, love. It appears that it's my turn to be, as you so aptly put it, 'freaking bored.' I'm afraid water cooler conversations about the lengths people have gone to procure the 'it' toy don't hold much appeal."

She glares a little, at the high pitch he uses to imitate her, but she's smiling genuinely by the time he finishes. "Maybe you should listen. Don't you have nieces and nephews?"

"Three. And counting. Another reason I'm glad to be skipping the family Christmas. A pregnant Katherine Pierce sounds like a nightmare."

Caroline lets out a laugh. She'd been Klaus' plus one to Katherine's and Elijah's anniversary party over the summer. The brunette had been intimidating, perfectly made up with assessing eyes and a sharp tongue. Caroline had a hard time picturing the other woman pregnant, wondered if Katherine would manage to give up the stilettos, but she and Elijah had seemed the blissful kind of happy.

Klaus is watching her, and Caroline shakes her head, focusing on him, "I really am grateful, by the way. You have seniority and I know you haven't been home in a while…"

Klaus sits up straighter, interrupting her, "No need to thank me again, Caroline. You should know by now that there's not a selfless bone in my body."

Caroline doesn't think that's strictly true, even if she thinks most people would agree with Klaus' self-assessment.

"You've given me a perfect excuse to avoid my mad family. And my mother's attempts at matchmaking, since her single children are steadily dwindling. Henrik's a bit too young for the settling down talk, and Kol's something of a lost cause."

Caroline grimaces, his comment very much reminding her of the grilling she's set to get when she returns home. Mystic Falls is a small town, and everyone knows everyone. And everyone shamelessly gossips about everyone's business. She'd gotten pointed comments about the lack of bling on her ring finger last year, even though she'd been in a relationship. She was dreading the pitying eyes and the, "Oh, you poor thing's!" she would surely receive once her single state was revealed.

Klaus, notes her discomfort immediately, damn his perceptiveness. "Why the long face, sweetheart?"

Caroline glances away, feeling momentarily awkward. Her breakup isn't exactly a secret, but she'd kind of purposefully avoided mentioning it to Klaus. They never really talk about outside relationships – he'd clearly not been a fan of Tyler, and she'd always been uncomfortable with the little sting of jealousy she felt the few times Klaus had mentioned dates.

She'd needed a little time to adjust, a little time to get her head on straight, knowing that his reaction mattered to her.

Looking up and meeting Klaus' eyes again, Caroline tries to seem casual, "Oh, you know. Just not super excited to explain my failed relationship, to a bunch of people who think it's weird I'm 28 and not married."

Klaus' eyebrows furrow, and he leans forward, his foot dropping to the floor, "Come again? When did this happen?"

"October," Caroline tells him, in a rush.

"October?" Klaus repeats, and Caroline bites back a smile at how incredulous he sounds.

"Yeah. It was nothing super dramatic. His lease was up, and we started talking about moving in together, and we both kind of just realized that the next logical step wasn't something that either of us really wanted."

Klaus is silent, for a long moment, studying her. Caroline bears it patiently, knowing he's weighing the truth of her words. And she knows it's important to let him, for him to know that she's fine, and not broken up about it, for things to move forward the way she's hoping for. Finally Klaus nods, though he remains a touch suspicious, "And you neglected to mention this to me because?"

Caroline drums her fingers on the desk, and drops her voice slightly, "There's a reason, Klaus. I promise. Ask me when I get back, if you haven't figured it out before then, alright?"

He looks irritated, but Caroline thinks there's maybe a little intrigue there too. "Fine. But I will remember this, Caroline."

She smirks, and it's a little smug, "I'm counting on it."

**Tuesday, December 22:**

He's considering lunch, when Caroline knocks, barely waiting for his permission to enter before she pops her head around the door, "Hey, have you eaten yet?"

Her timing is impeccable, and Klaus shakes his head in answer. He's just about to ask her to join him, her newly single status having rarely left his mind in the hours since he'd discovered it, but Caroline barrels ahead, "Good. Don't move. I'll be back in a half hour."

And then she's gone, his door clicking shut before Klaus can ask any questions.

That had been… odd. But thirty minutes won't kill him, and Caroline is nothing if not punctual.

He begins proofreading a proposal that's due just after the holidays, keeping an eye on the clock. If Klaus is being honest, he's not being especially productive today. Few people are, it seems like, so he's not awash in guilt about it. Caroline's one of the few who seems to be steadily completing tasks. He's seen her flitting past his office numerous times, but he chalks that up to her control freak tendencies, surely upset by the fact that she's taking off a day early, and planning on coming back a day late.

It's been distracting, to Klaus. Her hair's down, which is unusual, golden curls bouncing around her shoulders. The sweater she's wearing is red and looks invitingly soft. Klaus' fingers itch to touch it, to see if he's correct.

He'd thought he'd been done, thinking of Caroline in this way. He's come to enjoy her friendship, far more than he ever thought he would when he'd first met her. Klaus' initial thoughts had been less than pure, more along the lines of peeling off the high necked blouse, and shoving up the slim pencil skirt, she'd worn to her first day at work.

Technically an HR violation, but not one that he'd Klaus had committed before. With an HR representative, no less.

But Caroline had rejected him. Neatly, and firmly and with a hint of humor. And he'd never admit it out loud, but he'd been hooked. On the way her blue eyes had flared, by the disdainful curl of her lips. The words she'd spit at him, the way she'd tossed her hair.

Caroline Forbes was lovely, but rarely more so then when in a temper.

She'd gone icy, after that. Coolly polite, whenever their paths had crossed. But then they'd been thrown together for a project (and Klaus _may_ have arranged things that way, and ensured that she'd never suspect). And their proximity had helped her to thaw, and before long he'd been coaxing smiles from her, and she'd been freely offering information about her life.

And the boyfriend she'd been seeing for close to a year.

He'd been disappointed, surprisingly so, but not enough to deprive himself of the pleasure of her company. They'd become the most frequent visitors to each other's offices (raising a few eyebrows, as Klaus had proudly cultivated a bit of a reputation for being difficult to deal with). Caroline had easily shrugged off the stares, calmly telling him that she had plenty of experience with busy bodies and eventually the talk had died down.

For the most part, anyway. Apparently Caroline still got regularly cornered in the ladies and pressed for details about their nonexistent sex life. But at least that was reasonably discrete.

There's another knock, and Klaus checks the clock. Sure enough, only twenty-five minutes have passed. He tells Caroline to come in, and she does. She locks the door behind her, leading Klaus to raise his eyebrows, "Now this seems promising," he muses, letting his eyes wander down her body.

He's never been able to stop himself from flirting with her, so she barely bats an eye.

Caroline bustles into the room, her arms full, looking unimpressed, "Mind out of the gutter, Klaus."

She puts several things on his desk, and Klaus recognizes the bags from the really good Thai place a few blocks away. "Now," Caroline says, pulling containers out, "I know you said that you didn't want me to thank you for covering for me over the holidays but I'm going to. Deal with it and eat your free lunch."

She points a chopstick at him, daring him to argue, and Klaus raises his hands in surrender, "Yes, ma'am."

Caroline tosses him his own set, "Good boy. And I have presents for you."

He has hers, as well. It had been an easy thing, to sneak a peek at her laptop (and her incredibly well organized folders) and find things that she'd bookmarked, but wouldn't buy for herself. He might have lingered, a little longer than necessary, in the file marked Agent Provocateur.

He'd settled for a handbag (after enduring a discussion with Rebekah), technically practical but more luxurious than what Caroline typically went for. She'd probably berate him for the extravagance, but he could more than afford it. It seemed less intimate, than clothing. And since they were officially only coworkers, jewellery was hardly appropriate.

"You're not allowed to open them yet," Caroline continues.

That causes Klaus to raise his eyebrows curiously, "Why ever not?"

"Because it's not Christmas. Duh." She plops two brightly wrapper and beribboned packages, on the edge of his desk. "And don't even try to cheat. I'll _know_."

"Oh, you've developed some kind of psychic powers, have you? Fascinating," Klaus deadpans, his eyes on the gifts. He hadn't been kidding earlier. Patience wasn't exactly his strong suit, though he could employ it if he absolutely had to.

This did not seem like a situation in which it was necessary.

But Caroline's eyes are knowing enough to give him pause. "Trust me, Klaus. I will know. And I'd hate to have to think up consequences."

The way her voice dips, around the final word, is suggestive enough to have Klaus shifting restlessly in his seat. He takes a bite, to cover it, chewing slowly. "I suppose I can play by your rules," he concedes. "For now."

Caroline inclines her head, a slow smile stealing across her lips as she crosses her legs, "Good. And who knows, maybe next time we'll play by yours."

**Wednesday, December 23:**

Okay, so she's a big fat cheater.

She'd totally opened Klaus' gift the second she'd gotten home. She was an only child, and therefore not exactly great at the delayed gratification thing.

And he'd never know.

She drags a fingertip over the butter soft leather, mentally commending Klaus on his (and hers, because she recognizes it from one of the dream online shopping sprees she'd taken a few weeks ago) good taste.

It's kind of perfect, if she's being honest. She's not a big fan of surprises (because other people so rarely planned them correctly) but she'll make an exception for this one.

And she can't really get mad at him for cheating, and stalking her laptop, without being a giant hypocrite, can she?

She's just going to have to make it harder on him next time.

**Thursday, December 24:**

They're taunting him.

He'd left Caroline's presents at the office yesterday. To avoid temptation. But today he'd had to bring them home with him, and they're now sitting on the coffee table. He's flipping through the channels, trying to ignore them.

And failing.

There's nothing of interest on television, besides holiday specials and _Die Hard, _and his eyes keep coming back to the meticulously wrapped packages.

Surely Caroline was bluffing, and it was impossible for her to actually know, when he'd opened them? Although, if anyone could manage it, it would definitely be her.

After another few moments of indecision, Klaus gives in, tossing the remote control aside, and scooping the packages into his lap. He begins with the larger, heavier, one, slipping off the ribbon and paper to reveal two boxes taped together. The chocolates he has a secret weakness for, a new sketchbook (and it seems like they'd both been drawn to leather) and a gift card.

It's so very Caroline. Thoughtful and useful and well planned.

He sets the gifts carefully aside, and turns his attention to the second, smaller box. It's very light and when Klaus opens it, he sees only a card, decorated in subtle silver Christmas trees. When he flips it open, he's greeted with Caroline's neat printing.

_Merry Christmas, Klaus!_

_Bet you're wondering who your Secret Santa was, since you didn't receive a gift. _

_Surprise, it's me! _

_Now, I'm kind of flouting the rules (but honestly, who can find a good present for under $25?!) because it didn't cost me a dime. But I hope you'll like it all the same. _

_I'll see you in a few days._

_Yours, Caroline._

There's a URL and a password written underneath and it's a struggle not to grab his laptop immediately.

He honestly hadn't given much thought, to this Secret Santa business. Last year he'd been gifted a truly heinous tie (although Klaus had enjoyed the expression on Elijah's face, the struggle between horror and his need to be polite, when he'd re-gifted it to his older brother) so the lack of a gift this year really hadn't concerned him.

Getting to skip having to feign gratitude for an undoubtedly poorly though out gift, only given because of an obligation was a boon, in Klaus' mind.

But now, knowing Caroline had selected something for him, his curiosity is stirred.

But he rather thinks he understands just how Caroline was so sure that she'd know if he opened his gift early, considering his login to the site would be time and date stamped.

It was genius, and a tiny bit evil, and Klaus was _very_ impressed.

**Friday, December 25:**

Her phone goes off at 1:01 AM, to an alert she'd very specifically set. She's awake, sitting up in bed in her old room and reading. Her mom had gotten home just after eleven. They'd shared cookies and hot chocolate and Caroline had just sent her mother off to bed.

The Forbes mother-daughter family Christmas tradition was sleeping in, followed by pancakes, followed by holiday movies. It's something they both look forward to, a calm and relaxed day in their usually hectic lives.

It's just after midnight, in Chicago, and she'd honestly expected Klaus to crack and sign in to the photo sharing account she'd set up sooner. She'd only uploaded one picture.

So far.

It would depend on Klaus' reaction, if the others got put up or not.

The first photo is the tamest one. Caroline's in her underwear, yes. But it's a simple side profile from the waist up, her face averted, the strap of her bra slipping from her shoulder, curls spilling down her back. A lot of skin, but all the important bits remain covered.

She thought it was best to test the waters, before doing anything that could end up being humiliating.

She waits a few minutes, barely resisting the urge to get up and start pacing (but it's entirely possible her mother's still awake, and Caroline has no idea what she'd say, if her mom happened to come check and see why she was restless.

Her mother so did not need to know about her adventures in sending provocative selfies.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline taps out a text. And then promptly deletes it, and tries again. This isn't exactly a conversation she's ever started before. How does one say, 'What do you think of the semi-nude photo I just gifted you with?' in a casual, non-committal, way? Rolling her eyes at her own indecision, Caroline tries one more time, and hits send as soon as she's done.

There. No take backs.

**Caroline [Friday 1:07 AM]:** _You waited. Color me impressed._

She clutches her phone, so tightly her fingertips protest, while she waits for a reply. Luckily, Klaus is quick.

**Klaus [Friday 1:08 AM]:** _Colour me confused, love._

**Klaus [Friday 1:08 AM]:** _In the best possible way, mind._

**Klaus [Friday 1:08 AM]:** _And I'm suddenly seeing your talk of consequences and turns in a new, intriguing, light…_

Caroline smothers the relieved giggle that bubbles out with her hand, lying back on her pillows. She hadn't creeped him out, hadn't ruined their friendship, and she wouldn't need to look for a new job, anytime soon.

That was a green light, she was sure of it. She sends a flirtier reply rapidly.

**Caroline [Friday 1:09 AM]:** _Whoa. Slow down. Buy a girl dinner before you start revealing kinks._

**Klaus [Friday 1:10 AM]:** _How about when you get back?_

She pressed her lips together, to contain a squeal. It's fitting, that this is happening in her childhood bedroom, because she feels like a giddy fifteen year old with a crush.

**Caroline [Friday 1:11 AM]:** _I'd love to. This weekend?_

**Klaus [Friday 1:12 AM]:** _Not entirely sure I want to wait that long, Caroline._

Neither did Caroline.

**Caroline [Friday 1:12 AM]:** _How about Thursday? Unless you've got better New Year's plans?_

She's supposed to go to a party at Kat's. But since Katherine's been nagging Caroline to jump Klaus' 'unfairly hot ass' for ages, she thinks her friend will forgive her for skipping it. Eventually. Once Caroline coughs up the details.

And the office is closed on Friday, so if she and Klaus end up spending the long weekend in bed…

Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing.

**Klaus [Friday 1:13 AM]:** _I do not. It's a date. Dinner?_

**Caroline [Friday 1:13 AM]:** _Yes. I'd love to._

**Caroline [Friday 1:14 AM]:** _And hey, you only have to wait for dinner. I took more than the one picture for you, Klaus._

**Klaus [Friday 1:15 AM]:** _Caroline…_

She can almost hear him, when she reads it, the way he clips consonants so crisply when he's frustrated. She can see the clench of his jaw, in her mind. She presses her lips together, to hold back another laugh.

Caroline had been right. This _was_ fun.

**Caroline [Friday 1:15 AM]: **_Merry Christmas, Klaus. And thank you, for the purse. It's gorgeous._

**Klaus [Friday 1:16 AM]:** _You're very welcome, sweetheart. Merry Christmas to you, too._

**Click, Click, Snap**

**Saturday, December 26:**

He refreshes the page an obscene amount of times. So much so that once the second thumbnail image pops up, just after midnight, Klaus finds himself blinking at the screen, wondering if he'd only convinced himself that a second photo's been added. Wondering if it'll disappear, like some kind of mirage, the second he clicks on it.

He holds his breath as he does it.

And promptly lets it out, along with a short, frustrated noise.

This was simultaneously the best and the most tortuous present he'd ever received.

He studies the picture with greedy eyes. It must have been taken shortly after the first one. Caroline's sitting higher on her knees, the ribbon tie of her knickers fluttering down one smooth thigh, the curve of her arse visible. She'd got her hands in her hair, her back arched slightly, and Klaus can make out more of the bra. Strains his eyes, peering at the lace.

He's certain that he'd do all manner of despicable things, and do them with a smile, for a head on shot, or better yet a front row seat.

Klaus gropes for his phone.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:12 AM]:** _You're ravishing, Caroline. I can't wait to touch you._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:13 AM]:** _Someone's optimistic that dinner will go well. ;)_

Klaus grins down at the screen. He's wanted her for ages, finally has unequivocal confirmation that Caroline wants him too. If she thinks he's going to make it longer than a few minutes, once he sees her, without at least kissing her, than she's in for a rude awakening.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:14 AM]: **_Sorry, love. But I've every confidence that neither of us will make it to dinner._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:14 AM]: **_Speak for yourself. Office sex is tacky._

Klaus snorts at that, quickly tapping out a reply.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:14 AM]:** _Is it? So you've never thought about it? Not once?_

**Caroline [Saturday 12:15 AM]: **_Well… I guess I can't exactly say never. In the spirit of honesty._

**Klaus [Saturday 12:16 AM]:** _I've thought of it often. You, bent over one of our desks, muffling your cries in the crook of your arm as I fuck you. Sneaking my hand up your skirt, during one of those infernal calls. Teasing you until you're soaked and squirming. I've pictured you spread out on the conference table, playing with your nipples while you beg me to make you come._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:18 AM]: **_You have put a lot of thought into this._

**Klaus [Saturday 12:19 AM]:** _Every day, Caroline._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:20 AM]:** _I'd consider some of it. Not the conference table thing. Too public. But I seem to remember your dining room table is pretty big. Would you accept that as a substitute?_

Klaus swallows harshly. Is she crazy? Of course he would. Hell, it would probably be even better, as there'd be no need for haste. Another text rings through before he can reply.

**Caroline [Saturday 12:21 AM]:** _And honestly, I think I'd have to plan ahead for the second one. Not a lot of room for your hand between my thighs in a pencil skirt. And it'd probably be easier if I skipped panties too._

Klaus closes his eyes, a pained groan escaping him as he slumps back on his couch. He presses a hand to his cock, which had steadily hardened, ever since he'd opened the picture. He's only wearing sweatpants, and it would be so easy to pull the waistband aside, and give himself a little relief. But he resists the temptation. It won't be long before he can have her. In reality, and not just his imagination.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:22 AM]:** _I hate that you're several states away right now._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:23 AM]:** _I hate that I can hear my mom moving around down the hall. Makes the thought of touching myself right now kind of weird._

**Klaus [Saturday 12:23 AM]:** _Have you done that before?_

**Caroline [Saturday 12:24 AM]:** _Masturbated? Uh, yeah? Regularly. For a long time. Orgasms are important to women too, Klaus._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:24 AM]:** _And let's be real, teenage boys don't really know how to make them happen._

Klaus finds himself chuckling, even as he replies to clarify.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:25 AM]:** _I'm aware. What I meant, love, was have you thought of me, while touching yourself?_

**Caroline [Saturday 12:26 AM]:** _Also regularly. Just wait until you see some of the later photos…_

He swallows harshly, at the implications of that.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:27 AM]:** _Just how many photos are there?_

**Caroline [Saturday 12:27 AM]:** _Lots._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:28 AM]:** _And I wouldn't have sent them to you if I didn't trust you, Klaus, but I feel the need to inform you that if you even think about showing them to another soul I will end you. Slowly and painfully._

Klaus would be offended, but he knows it's just in Caroline's nature to cover all the angles. It meant something, that she'd taken this leap.

**Klaus [Saturday 12:29 AM]:** _For my eyes only. I promise._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:30 AM]:** _Good. And as much as I've enjoyed this conversation it's an hour later here and I need to go to bed. I'm going to actually brave town tomorrow. Wish me luck! _

**Klaus [Saturday 12:30 AM]:** _Good luck. And sleep well._

**Caroline [Saturday 12:31 AM]:** _Night!_

Klaus sets his phone aside, and scrubs a hand over his face. And heads to his bathroom, where a very cold shower awaits him.

**Monday, December 28:**

After once again spending the day glued to his couch, computer within reach (in vain, as no more tantalizing images had appeared) Klaus had thought it best to leave his home, and get some fresh air. He'd forced himself away from his laptop, and had left his phone behind. He'd started with a late dinner, and then gone to the gym.

It had been nearly deserted, people likely still too busy gorging on food, and Klaus was glad of it. He dreaded the post-New Year's crush. All the people with fresh resolutions that he'd need to battle for workout space in a few days.

He'd pushed himself hard, hoping to exhaust himself, and mitigate the tension that the long distance teasing he and Caroline had been doing had built up in him. Sleeping had been a challenge last night, his dreams vivid and detailed.

He'd woken up gasping, twisted in his sheets, more than once. Telling himself that he only had to wait, just a little while longer, was cold comfort to his throbbing body.

And it didn't stop him from mentally calculating the hours until Caroline would be close enough for him to touch once more.

Klaus makes himself walk past his computer, sitting innocently on his coffee table, when he gets home. He head to his bathroom for a shower. By the time he's clean and dressed, it's after midnight.

He retrieves his phone first, finds texts from Caroline from an hour ago.

**Caroline [Sunday 11:15 PM]:** _Sorry I'm late! Ran into some old high school friends, reminisced. Had a few too many drinks. Was very glad to have the house to myself when I got home._

**Caroline [Sunday 11:16 PM]:** _If you know what I mean. And I think you do._

Klaus does. And he bites back a curse, as his body reacts, his efforts at the gym now for naught.

**Caroline [Sunday 11:17 PM]:** _Decided to be extra, extra nice, since I made you wait. Enjoy. ;)_

**Caroline [Sunday 11:17 PM]** _Going to pour myself into bed, since I have a long drive home tomorrow. I'll see you at work, Klaus!_

His phone falls carelessly to the floor, and he fumbles in his haste to get his laptop open. He takes a deep breath, his internet connection feeling unbearably slow, as he waits for the site to load.

Caroline's uploaded six photos.

He blinks stupidly at the first new one, for longer than he'd ever admit. Klaus' breath grows labored, as he scrolls through the set.

Caroline, arms stretched above her head, blonde hair bright against plum sheets, wearing nothing but those lacy knickers. Her breast pushed up, by the slight arch of her back, her pink nipples pulled tight.

Her hands cupping the handfuls of flesh, slightly obscuring them, thumbs over the tips, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips.

In the third, one of her hand's has slipped lower, her fingertips teasing the edge of her knickers, her eyes half open and staring at the camera.

Klaus swallows audibly, his own hands less than steady, as he clicks the button to go forward.

He makes a noise, one he barely recognizes, at the sight that greets him. Her thighs have parted, in the image, her eyes squeezed shut, and her hand completely covered by the lace she still wears.

Her knees are drawn up, in the next picture. The hand that's been teasing her breast is gone, at is at her hip, her fingers tangled in the ribbon tie holding her underwear together.

Klaus shifts against his sofa, an expletive held back behind clenched teeth, as he braces himself, for what he's sure the final frame will contain.

A raspy, "Fuck," escapes, when his guess is confirmed, and he's presented with the image of Caroline, captured in a still, on the verge of coming. Her skin gleams with a faint sheen, and both of her hands are working the slick pink folds between her legs, two fingers buried inside of her body, others on her clit.

Her head's tipped back, lips parted in her abandon. He's never seen anything more erotic, and Klaus wishes that he could see more of her face.

Letting out a shaky groan, he scrubs a hand over his face. He tries to resist, really he does. But he's weak and he clicks back, to the very first picture she'd sent, shoving his sweatpants down, and wrapping his hand around his cock.

He cycles through the pictures again. And again, stroking himself, faster and faster until he comes all over his hand with a strangled grunt.

He fights to catch his breath, when he's done, absently noting that he's going to need another shower.

And that the twenty or so hours before he sees her again are going to be the longest of his life.

**Tuesday, December 29:**

The familiar knock at the door sets Caroline's heart racing.

She'd not heard a peep out of Klaus, since she'd shared the final batch of photos with him. The silence had made her anxious. Had she gone too far? Did he think she was a freak? Was this going to be an awkward 'I changed my mind' conversation?

Klaus knocks again, louder, and more sharply.

He was clearly impatient. Was that good or bad?

Smoothing her hair, taking a deep breath, Caroline calls out, "Come in!"

Her door opens, and Klaus quickly steps inside, leaning back against it after it closes.

He holds her eyes, his gaze dark and hungry, as he reaches behind him, the lock engaging under his fingers with an audible click.

Caroline releases a shuddering breath, trying not to fidget under his intensity. He did _not_ look like a man who'd decided he didn't want her, that was for sure.

"Hey," Caroline says, offering him a small smile, "how was your…"

The inane question she was about to ask (small talk, really? She'd sent the guy a picture of her fingering herself and she was going to ask about his Christmas? So much for bold…) trails off, as Klaus crosses the room in several long, quick, strides.

She goes willingly, as he pulls her out of her chair, her body crashing into his as he spins them, pinning her against the desk. One lean arm bands around her waist, his opposite hand tugging gently at her hair, until her head tips back.

And then Klaus is kissing her.

It takes Caroline half a second to respond, her mouth falling open at his demand, a tiny whimper escaping at the first rasp of his tongue. She'd kind of expected aggression, heat and want and need. It's not totally absent, the tense lines of his body suggest that his control isn't as ironclad as it seems. But he's slow, teasing. Klaus' hands, the long fingers her thoughts often flitted to, trace distracting shapes, on the nape of her neck and her clothed hip. Strokes of his tongue, practiced sucks and nips, leave Caroline's mind whirling and her breath coming out in gasps.

She has no idea how long they stand there, does not recall clutching his hair, or untucking his shirt, only knows that she'd needed to touch his skin.

She feels him pull back, and the noise she makes is protesting, her body swaying to follow.

He muffles a laugh in her throat, his lips dragging down, a finger hooking in the collar of her blouse. He pulls it aside and lays an open mouthed kiss on the curve of her shoulder. The hint of his teeth on the sensitive juncture makes Caroline shiver.

"I thought office sex was tacky?" Klaus murmurs against her skin.

Ugh. Of course he'd remember that. Caroline hitches a leg around his hip, grinding herself against the hard bulge that's straining behind his jeans. Her head falls back, at the jolt of pleasure it sends through her, and she does it again, until he rocks back. "Are you saying you don't want to?" she taunts, breathlessly.

Klaus groans softly, a hand dropping to palm her ass, and move her more insistently against him. Caroline curses herself, and the bitter cold, for her decision to wear pants this morning. The layers of fabric are killing her, the friction good, but not quite where she needs it.

However, her wardrobe choices are not completely without advantages. Klaus' fingers are working the buttons of her blouse open rapidly.

Caroline pushes him away enough to get her hands between them, and she flicks open the front clasp of her bra. Klaus' eyes widen, in surprise and obvious appreciation, his mouth dropping to suck a nipple between his teeth.

She bites the inside of her lip, back arching in a silent plea for more. Klaus' mouth is rough, and a hand sneaks up, cupping her other breast, his thumb brushing gently over the neglected nipple. The contrast has her squirming, and she hears something tumble off the edge of her desk.

She's pretty sure it doesn't break, and she quickly forgets about it, under the sensations his mouth is pulling from her.

Klaus pulls away, his hands dropping to her knead her thighs, his pupils blown as he stares at her bared breasts. "You're gorgeous, Caroline," he rasps, "I thought nothing could be hotter than those pictures. But you, here. The taste of you. I was incredibly wrong."

Her hands slip higher, curling around his shoulders under his shirt to pull him closer. When he speaks again, his lips brush hers, and he sounds almost regretful, "But we're not going to have sex."

She's about to protest, because if he thinks he can wind her up and leave her aching, he's going to get a serious talking to. But Klaus reaches behind him, and grasps her chair, letting himself sink into it. "Stand up, love," he instruct lowly, "and undo your trousers for me."

She raises an eyebrow, his words sending a frisson of excitement coursing through her, and straightens from the desk. Shaky fingers follow his directions. Klaus' hands span her waist, and he kisses her stomach, glancing up at her as his tongue traces her bellybutton, flicking lightly before he pulls back.

God, she wants him to do that again. Repeatedly. Much lower.

His hands encourage her to turn, and he pulls her back, until she's in his lap, her thighs are spread over his. Her toes just touch the floor as he leans back.

A big hand wanders down her stomach, and Caroline's muscles clench under the light touch. She suddenly likes where this is going.

"Now," he murmurs, kissing the side of her neck, "I do hate that you have to be quiet, Caroline. But I'd hate to be interrupted even more."

She nods against his shoulder, pressing her lips together as his fingers trace lower, delving down and stroking across her panties. He lets out a pleased hum, finding the lace damp, before slipping underneath. Her hands fly to the armrests, her hips shifting under the feather light touches he's tracing over her. Klaus stiffens, behind her, as her ass rubs against him. So Caroline does it again, letting out a moan when he parts her folds and seeks out her clit.

"Shhh," he breathes into her hair, a fingertip tracing circles over the bundle of nerves. He varies the pressure, and her thighs jolt, spreading wider at the rougher brushes.

And then his fingers leave the bundle of nerves, slipping inside of her. Caroline's back arches as they curl into her, his palm pressing hard and rubbing her clit with every stroke. She can't help moving, chasing him when he leaves her. The familiar building of her orgasm begins, low in her belly, her body clenching around his fingers. Caroline brings one hand up to cover her mouth, little sobs threatening to grow louder, and the other to her nipple, rolling it and shuddering at the extra stimulation.

The only sound is the squeak of the wheels of the chair underneath them as their bodies rock together. "You feel so good, Caroline," Klaus croons, his voice hoarse. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you."

"You could be," she reminds him, right before a rough grind of his palm on her clit has her swallowing back another moan.

He _is_ the one who decided no sex. Caroline would have been totally onboard for being bent over the desk, like he'd mentioned in that first dirty text.

The noise Klaus makes is pained, "We don't have time for that, sweetheart. Once won't be enough, trust me."

"Big talk," Caroline taunts, just before she comes, the cry she's helpless not to make muffled in the palm of her hand as she rides it out, sagging bonelessly against Klaus.

His motions gentle, slick fingers toying with her clit, prolonging the aftershocks. She pulls his hand away, after a few moments, becoming too sensitive.

She shifts against him, feels his cock still pressed against her, probably painfully aroused by now. Caroline clears her throat, craning her neck so she can look at him, "How many of those fantasies about me did you say you had, Klaus?" she asks.

Klaus huffs out a laugh, shifting her so she's no longer rubbing up against the hard bulge in his jeans. "Dozens. At least."

Caroline stands, pressing him back into the chair when he moves to follow her, "And did any of them involve me on my knees for you?" she wonders innocently.

The way his throat bobs with the harsh swallow he takes sends another rush of arousal flooding through her, and Caroline slowly sinks to her knees.

She raises a brow, and repeats his earlier demand softly, "Undo your pants for me, Klaus."

He doesn't hesitate, his hands moving quickly and his hips shifting up to shove his jeans down. Caroline grabs his hands, before he can move on to his boxer briefs, setting them on the armrests pointedly. They clamp down, his chest moving rapidly as Caroline moves in. She drops kisses down his abdomen, tasting his skin occasionally, leaving little nips that make him twitch. She sneaks her fingers into the waistband of the black cotton that covers him, carefully drawing it down until his cock springs free.

And then she sits back on her heels, giving him the same slow perusal he'd treated her to, her nails raking lightly down his thighs.

Klaus head falls back, her name coming from him as a soft moan.

Caroline ducks her head to lick over the tip of him, her hand wrapping around the base of his cock and stroking upward. She wraps her lips around him, giving a quick hard suck, before she pulls back. He looks down at her, questioning and dazed. Caroline grins up at him, feeling triumphant, "I want you to watch, Klaus," she tells him, relishing the way his teeth snap together, the way his knuckles turn white as his grip tightens.

But his eyes remain on her, and Caroline leans down again, sucking him into her mouth slowly. She moans when she's taken him as far as she can, and Klaus bites down on his lip, his body taut. But he doesn't look away.

Caroline hollows her cheeks as she pulls back, moving faster on the next down stroke, working what she can't fit in with a tight fist. Her other hand fondles his balls, his thighs parting to give her more room and he practically squirms under her gentle fingertips.

It's a heady feeling, watching him lose control for her, because of her touch.

Klaus pants her name, in warning, after a while, and Caroline rolls her eyes, sucking harder. Honestly, they were at work, and couldn't exactly afford a mess, could they?

A garbled curse spills from his lips as he comes, and Caroline swallows around him rapidly. He slumps back in the chair, and Caroline pulls away, letting him slip from her mouth, and wiping her lips on the back of her arm.

He offers her a hand, pulling her up. He bats her hands away, straightening and buttoning her blouse. Caroline runs her fingers through his hair, and Klaus leans into her touch. "So maybe that was a little tacky," Caroline remarks lightly, "but I'm totally cool with doing it again."

**Wednesday, December 30:**

**Caroline [Wednesday 11:46 AM]:** _Check the file __ There's something brand new there._

Klaus in a meeting, when the instant message pops up. Which Caroline is well aware of.

It's a struggle to concentrate, after the words sink into his brain, and he'd give anything to be able to excuse himself, lock himself inside his office, and open whatever bit of naughty loveliness Caroline's decided to share.

Not exactly possible, however. Since he's running the meeting.

He gets a few odd looks, when he pauses for longer than is strictly necessary. But, it is the holidays and half the office is out until the New Year, so he assumes people will forgive and forget his lack of attention.

And if not, Klaus can't find it in himself to care.

He rushes through, demands things be on his desk by next week, weathers a few disgruntled looks.

He's stopped by one of the admin's asking about his lunch order. He's short with her, but the sort of sandwich he's going to have for lunch is the last thing on Klaus' mind.

Finally, making it to his office, he shuts (and locks, for good measure) the door, throwing himself into his chair, fingers tapping impatiently on the surface.

There's a single new photo, in the shared file, posted mere minutes before Caroline had texted him.

Meaning she'd taken it at work.

He recognizes the desk chair from her office. And the skirt she'd been wearing that morning, bunched around her waist. The garters and lace topped stockings have him shifting restlessly, the lack of knickers, and all that bare flesh have him clenching the edges of his desk to keep himself from barging into her office, for a repeat of yesterday.

He takes a few slow inhales, and stays at his desk.

He's not sure he could resist having her, if he could be satisfied with another small taste. Feeling her come on his fingers, the enthusiastic way she'd sucked him, had been magnificent, but Klaus is convinced that it can be even better. The things he plans to do to Caroline, with her, would really be more comfortable in a bed. There will be a time for quick and dirty in the office. But not the first time.

He wants Caroline naked. He wants to taste every inch of her skin, watch her flush and writhe under his hands and mouth. He wants her loud and needy. He wants to hear his name from her, when she's hoarse with want. He doesn't want to have to hurriedly dress, and leave her office, attempting to act natural.

Klaus knows he can have all of that, know it's close. He only has to wait.

Just a little longer.

**Thursday, December 31**

Klaus was supposed to pick her up at eight. 'Supposed to' being the key word. Because Caroline had decided that they were kind of beyond your standard first date, at this point. Why pretend like they were strangers, why go through the motions, when she knew what she wanted?

So she's decided to surprise him (and had ducked in with a group of his already tipsy neighbors, so he didn't have to buzz her up).

It's 7:15 and she's in his elevator, one last trick up her sleeve.

Metaphorically speaking, anyway. Since she wasn't actually wearing anything under her coat.

She was more than a little chilly, and grateful for the toasty warmness of Klaus' building, but she'd survive.

Caroline tapped her foot on the elevator floor, as she watched the numbers above the door. She wasn't nervous, per se. Just jittery. In a good way.

She'd been a tiny bit afraid that all the build-up, the texts they'd exchanged while she'd been in Virginia, was going to leave actually moving forward anti-climactic (pun totally intended!).

But Klaus had more than proved her wrong, after he'd walked into her office on Tuesday. With limited time, and only his fingers. Caroline was very much looking forward to seeing what else he could so. And he'd been surprisingly sweet, afterwards. Tender and considerate in a way that had given her a serious case of the butterflies.

The elevator doors slide open, when she reaches Klaus' floor, and Caroline takes a deep breath, holding her head high and walking down the hallway.

She reaches out and knocks on his door, before she's even come to a complete stop, not willing to give herself the time to chicken out.

Caroline fusses with her hair, while she waits, and she smiles when she hears footsteps on the other side. Klaus opens the door, looking disgruntled, barefoot, his hair damp and his shirt on inside out. The expression melts away when he sees her, replaced by shock and maybe a hint of worry. "Caroline? What are you doing here? I thought…"

"Change of plans," Caroline says, cutting him off. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Klaus' eyebrows furrow, and his gaze drops, his eyes narrowing as he takes in her attire. And yeah, the trench coat isn't exactly subtle, and the red leather heels are way on the 'fuck me' end of the shoe spectrum.

She rests her weight on one hip, toying with her belt, while she waits for him to step aside. When he does, she brushes a hand over his chest, toying with an exposed seam, "Get dressed in a hurry?"

"I was just about to shave," he tells her, making no attempt to step away from her caress.

Caroline pauses, runs a hand up his chest and over his throat, "No need. I like the stubble."

He puts his and over hers, "Do you? I'll remember that."

Caroline hums out an agreeing noise, before she pulls away, and strolls further into his place. She's been her before, a couple of times, but never on her own.

"Why are you here, love? Not that I'm complaining, of course."

Caroline grins to herself, but doesn't answer, making her way over to his expansive dining room table. She turns to face him, setting her palms behind her and boosting herself up, crossing her legs and letting the lower ends of her coat split open over her thighs. "I thought we'd celebrate privately. Maybe order in," she says, leaning back and watching his expression turn heated as he eyes her legs. "Later."

His eyes fly to her hands, as she leisurely brings them up, and begins to work the buttons of her coat open, shrugging her shoulders and letting the fabric part until her breasts are barely covered. He's crossing the room by the time she reaches the belt, his hands moving hers away as he tugs urgently at the fabric that covers her. Caroline helps, lets him peel the coat down her arms, and shifting to let him tug it out from underneath her.

Klaus' hands slide up her sides, urging her to lie down, his mouth falling to her throat. She goes with a sigh, threading her fingers through his hair, and tilting her head back, her eyes closing at the scratch of his facial hair against her soft skin. She feels his palm moving down her belly, and she giggles softly at the displeased grunt her makes, as it strokes down her thigh, her legs still tightly crossed.

He looks up, bracing himself on a forearm next to her, narrowing his eyes at her amusement. She smiles at him, not the least bit sorry. It's nice to know that he wants her, just as badly as she wants him.

A hand wraps around her knee, just as his mouth swoops down, and engulfs her nipple. Caroline lets out a moan, her hand tightening in his hair, and her legs fall open as she arches up against him. Klaus groans against her skin, his body pressing hers more firmly into the table, and Caroline's hands drop to pull at his shirt. "Off," she demands. "Right now."

He releases her breast with a pop, straightening and discarding his grey tee. Caroline reaches for him, but he evades her. She drops back onto the table with a huff, but quiets down when she sees the way he's looking at her. His hair's ruffled, his lips reddened, and his expression so filled with want that Caroline can't look away.

They _really_ should have done this sooner.

She brings her hands to her breasts, tugging on her nipples, remembering the things he'd said he wanted. Klaus' eyes flutter shut, his head falling back as he inhales audibly. "Not fair, sweetheart. I had plans," he says, tone strained. "For you, and my bed, and the first time I had you in it. How's a man supposed to resist you like this?"

"I don't want you to resist, Klaus. I just want you. And who says those plans can't be round two? Or maybe three. I think your couch has potential, too."

He tugs her up, making a sound that's half laugh half groan before covering her mouth with his. Their lips mold together as his hands bury themselves in her hair. "Did you just invite yourself to spend the weekend, love?" he teases, when he pulls back, tracing his fingers down her spine. "Awfully presumptuous of you."

"Maybe, but I didn't actually bring any clothes. You might have to lend me one of your six hundred Henley's."

Klaus shakes his head, faux sadly, "Afraid I can't do that. I like you like this." He kisses her again, before she can answer, and Caroline parts her lips and eagerly invites him deeper. She feels his hands on her thighs again, and she spreads them without hesitation, pulling back to suck in a breath when she feels his thumbs stroke the crease where her thigh meets her torso.

He smiles, and does it again, just a touch too firmly to tickle, and Caroline shifts, wanting more. Klaus' smile widens, and he pulls away. And this time it's him, dropping to his knees. He slips her shoes off, and arranges her legs over his shoulders. His mouth brushes against her folds, and he pulls back, licking the hint of her arousal off of his lips. He brings a hand up, to spread her open, and gives her one firm stroke with the flat of his tongue, before circling her clit with the point of it.

She wants to fall back, wants to close her eyes and chase the streaks of pleasure every brush of his tongue gives her. But she knows he'd stop, knows he wants her to watch. His eyes are dark when he smirks up at her, almost like he's reading her thoughts. And when his lips wrap around her clit, and he sucks hard, a high pitched cry spills out of her. Her thighs tighten, trying to bring him closer, and Klaus obliges, his mouth everywhere, licking and sucking, his fingers slipping inside of her, until she's shaking and calling his name as she goes over the edge.

Klaus plants a kiss on her thigh, and then another on her stomach, as he rises. Caroline pants, shocked that she's still upright, tilting her chin up to kiss him when he stands before her, her hands racing down to rub his cock through his jeans. He emits a strangled groan, his hips bucking into her hand, as he buries his head in her shoulder.

She undoes his jeans, uses her feet to push them down his thighs, as her hand wraps around his cock, thumbing the head until he swears harshly. "I need a condom," he mutters.

Caroline hooks a leg around him, reeling him in, "No you don't. Pill. Inside me, Klaus. I need you."

And then he's sinking inside of her, a rough moan torn from his throat as she clenches around his cock. Caroline drags her nails down his back, wanting him closer. Klaus hooks a forearm under her calf, as he pulls back, lifting her leg and finding a deeper angle when he thrusts again. Her toes curl, with how good it feels, and she moans out, "Again."

Klaus seems to need it too, and then it's fast and hard and frantic, hands racing over all the skin they can reach. He eases her down onto the table, the cool wood a shock on her damp back, his forehead resting against hers, as their hips rut against each other. The muscles in his arms are pulled tight, and Caroline presses a kiss under his clenched jaw. "Caroline," he rumbles, and she understands the question he's trying to ask, sneaking a hand between their bodies to rub her clit until she comes, her limbs locking around him as she calls his name.

He groans, his chest pressed to hers, his rhythm faltering as his thrusts grow desperate. She holds on, breathing heavily, his motions sending delicious ripples through her. And then he comes, stiffening against her, his face twisted in bliss.

Caroline cups his face, rubs her thumb over the hollow where she knows there's a dimple, watching as his eyes clear and he focuses on her. She grins up at him, presses a quick peck to his lips. Klaus smiles back, and toys with a strand of her hair at her temple.

Caroline feels warm and she can't remember ever being this content.

Klaus swallows, clears his throat, pulling her up with him. His hands on her hips steady her, as he pulls her off the table, his arms wrapping around her back. She rests her head against his chest, words failing her.

Caroline's stomach makes a noise, and her eyes close briefly in embarrassment. She might have been too busy planning this to concentrate on lunch, okay? Klaus laughs, and she pokes his side half-heartedly, "Shut up."

"Sorry, love. I guess I need to feed you, if I want to explore those possibilities my sofa apparently has that you mentioned, hmm?"

Caroline wraps her arms around his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him again, smirking against his mouth at the twitch of interest his cock makes against her belly. "Yes, please," she requests. "Order something. I'm going to go clean up and raid your closet."

Klaus looks like he's about to protest, but Caroline levels him with a hard glare, "Unless of course you want the delivery guy to end his year with a show?"

Klaus heaves a disappointed sigh, "I suppose you've a point."

"Damn right I do," Caroline says with a sharp nod. "So food."

"Food," Klaus agrees.

Caroline rests a hand low on his abs, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Then I'll ride you on the couch. Or I guess you could bend me over it. Unless you wanted to save that one for the office?"

She pulls back to see his face, smirking. Klaus looks pained, for a moment, before he shakes his head, nudging her in the direction of his room. "I'll ponder it."

"I bet you will," Caroline says suggestively.

"But," Klaus continues, with a warning look, "if you'd like dinner before we have sex again I'm going to need you to leave my sight for a bit."

Caroline bites her lip, lets her eyes fall down to his rapidly hardening cock. She seriously considers how necessary food is.

And then her stomach growls again.

Klaus watches her knowingly, and Caroline turns away with a groan, "Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right. If I want this to be the best New Year's Eve ever I can't have you fainting on me from lack of sustenance."

Klaus snorts, derisive but mostly amused, "I'd not be the one fainting, love."

"You say that now," Caroline drawls mysteriously, sauntering away.

Klaus' voice stops her, the more serious inflection causing her to turn in question, "Caroline? This will be the best New Year's. But I intend to make the next one even better. And the year after that."

Her breath catches, when studies his expression. Caroline believes him. Klaus looks like he means it, so much more than lust in the way that he looks at her, she wonders how she'd never noticed it before. Those feelings don't look new. And they don't look temporary.

A good thing, since hers aren't either.

It's going to be a great year.


	24. Waxing and Waning

**Notes:** klarolinesmutmas fic numero 2!

**Waxing and Waning**

**(Prompt from an Anon: 1) klaroline doing 69. (2) klaus taking her doggy style. i mean, he's part wolf right? rough, animalistic, plenty of grunting and hair pulling. Smut.)**

Caroline shakes herself, and tears her gaze away from the window. The moon's rising and it reminds her that she's alone. She's in the kitchen, seriously considering Hot Pockets for dinner (because Klaus wasn't there to be a horrified snob about them, and really, it's not like artificial colors and flavors were going to kill her) when she hears him come in.

She's surprised, not having expected Klaus home until later. He'd had taken Kol out with him, not two hours before, to deal with an upstart coven of witches.

Caroline curses the day she'd met Dasha and Bogdan Sirko in the lobby of the hotel she and Klaus had stayed at in Kiev. Klaus had had the nerve to laugh, when they'd popped up in New Orleans, word coming from various informants that the siblings had been sniffing around for allies, hoping to make a name for themselves by tangling with The Original family.

Klaus had made an attempt at containing his amusement, under Caroline's unimpressed look. "And just what," she'd asked, "is so hilarious?"

He'd blinked up at her innocently, from the sofa he reclined on while Caroline paced, "Nothing, love. Just glad to know your penchant for finding trouble remains."

Caroline had been sorely tempted to kick him. But she'd been barefoot, and would probably have just broken her toes on his stupid, indestructible, Original Hybrid, shin.

It was far from the first time such a thing had happened, and it wouldn't be the last. Caroline had stopped counting, after the sixth attempt on Klaus' life. No one had yet to even come close to succeeding, and those who tried were dealt with swiftly and brutally. Caroline would have thought people would get smarter, learn from their mistakes, but it just never happened.

She's always a little anxious, when a threat pops up, as minimal as Klaus always insists they are. The fact that he'd gone off with only Kol, had not bothered to call Elijah or Rebekah to New Orleans, had soothed her somewhat. But still, she'd paced, watched the clock, been unable to concentrate on simple tasks, such as cooking.

She hadn't even been hungry, just desperate for a distraction.

Klaus returning home was the best possible one.

Caroline speeds out of the kitchen, and only the agility she'd gained when she became a vampire keeps her from wiping out, when her socks slip against the highly polished hardwood of the foyer when skids to a stop in front of Klaus.

His lips quirk up in amusement, and Caroline is briefly embarrassed by what she's wearing (his Henley, boyshorts and fluffy socks) before she spots the blood, the pool on his shirt particularly alarming. She immediately reaches out to him, patting down his chest and shoulders, instinctively checking for injuries, before wrapping herself around him, reassured by his smell, the solid strength of his frame.

He ruins her clothes all the time. He'll just deal with it, if his shirt gets bloody.

Caroline feels Klaus' chuckle vibrate through where they're pressed together, the low rumble of it soothing the last of her frayed nerves, as his hands pull her more firmly into him.

She pulls back enough to look at him, slipping her hands under his shirt, "What happened to our deal? You're supposed to text me and let me know you're fine ASAP, remember?"

He presses his forehead to hers affectionately, his fingers toying with the edge of the Henley she wears, ticking the backs of her thighs, "I'm afraid my phone was a casualty of the battle, sweetheart. Kol's too."

"Stupid witches," Caroline grouses, fingers digging into his skin.

"I did kill them," Klaus tells her mildly.

She knows. And she's not exactly happy about it, but she'd long since come to terms with her shades of gray. She didn't kill for fun, but she'd do it in a heartbeat to protect what was hers, had no qualms with Klaus doing the same.

She takes a deep breath, lets the last of her worry melt away. For now, at least. She's totally gonna need a play by play later, going to have to find out if there's any loose ends to tie up. She brushes a fleeting kiss across his lips, before she steps back, tangling their hands together, and towing Klaus out of the entryway. "Let's get you cleaned up," she says absently.

His grip tightens, as he lets himself be led, "That sounds promising," he remarks teasingly, pressing himself against her back as she turns to mount the stairs. She can feel the tension in his limbs, his cock hard and rubbing up against her ass.

Right, full moon. Their usual routine (lots and lots of hot hybrid-vampire sex!) had been unfortunately interrupted by this witch business. Klaus, it seemed, was more than willing to get back on track.

And Caroline was totally cool with that plan.

She shivers, and grinds back deliberately, Klaus' hands dropping to her hips to encouraging her movement.

Caroline's pulse picks up when his fingers dance under her clothing, raking up her stomach and grasping a breast. Her nipples have been hard since she'd first touched him, and she lets out a gasp when he pinches one, her head falling back on his shoulder.

They're so not making it to the bathroom.

Confirming her suspicions, his hand leaves her, turning to fist in the fabric that covers her from his gaze, ripping it clean off and letting it fall to the floor. "I liked that shirt," Caroline complains, even as her hand reaches back to fist in his hair. "It smelled like you."

Klaus presses his nose to the nape of her neck, inhales appreciatively, "Help yourself to another, love. I do love it when you're covered in my scent."

She knows. It was kind of a thing of his, in the week leading up to the full moon. He came on her, as much as he came in her. Would often sit back after he'd pulled out of her, his release sticky on her thighs, and play with her clit, his fingers soaked in their cum, eyes intent on her face as she fell apart for him again and again.

She shudders, the image having her thighs clenching together involuntarily, an ache building between them. Klaus breathes in again, the noise he lets out upon exhaling satisfied and content, even as his foot nudges her legs apart, a hand tracing the band of her panties, "Nearly as much as I love the way you smell when you're dripping for me," he mutters.

Her underwear's gone, in the next second, but Caroline can't bring herself to care when he's parting her folds and circling her clit, the movements practiced and purposeful. Her nails bite into his skin, and she feels the edge of his fangs against her shoulder. Her hips move without her permission, chasing his touch, her clit throbbing and her body greedy for more.

He's rocking against her hard, his cock still trapped in his jeans, breathing harshly.

God, she loves the full moon. Klaus gets rough, and impatient, in the best kinds of ways. He pulls orgasm after orgasm from her, makes her beg but never makes her wait (unlike other times, where he likes to draw it out, have her writhing on his tongue until she feels like she can't take anymore, like she'll lose her mind if he's not inside her).

He sinks two long fingers inside of her, curling them just right, and Caroline goes up on her toes, letting out a whine at the delicious stretch. "More," she demands, "I need it. Please." She drags his free hand back to her breast, leaving hers over it to encourage him to touch her.

His hands work diligently, one thrusting in and out of her at a pace that has her climbing quickly, his lazy pulls on her nipple a maddening counterpoint.

She comes unexpectedly with a shout, waves of pleasure washing over her, when the heel of his hand presses hard against her clit. He stays with her, murmuring praise and encouragements into her ear, his fingers inside of her working her through, and then back up again rapidly. She can feel his other hand brushing over her back, fumbling with his clothes, and seams rip loudly, before Klaus' skin is pressed to hers.

She leans more heavily on him with a sigh, turning her head to nuzzle into his throat.

He wraps a fist in her hair and she lets out a moan as in sends a new, delicious spasm through her. Klaus uses his grip to pull tip her head up, to take her mouth in a heated, demanding kiss, teeth nipping at her lower lip, before licking the sting away.

Her knees feel shaky, and Caroline lets herself slump forward, her knees coming to rest on the stairs, hands a few treads higher. Klaus follows her down, his cock hot against her bare skin, nudging between her thighs. He pulls at her hair again, and a soft laugh comes from Caroline, eyes falling shut to savor the groan he makes, as she moves her knees further apart, her spine bowing to his demand, her ass raising high in the air. She rolls her hips invitingly, feeling the length of his cock slide up her slit, "Just fuck me, Klaus."

Then his hand is firm on her belly, tilting her hips up even further, and he pushes into her with one hard thrust, his hips slamming into her. "Yes," Caroline moans, and Klaus' answering grunt is muffled against her back. He gives her no time to adjust, pulling out and slamming back into her. The angle's perfect, he rubs the spot inside of her just right with every entry, and she's not going to last long. Propping herself up on one arm, she drags a hand down her belly, intent of getting off as fast as possible, then hopefully getting off again.

Klaus lets out a growl, batting her hand away. "Mine," he murmurs, voice rough and hazy with want, "You're going to come on my cock, Caroline." His grip on her hair tightens, and his lips press against her shoulder. "With my teeth in your throat, and my name on your lips, love. Over and over again."

She finds herself nodding, knows she would agree to anything, if he just kept going.

The burning tension inside of her snaps, when he bites her, the ecstatic noise he makes as he drinks sending another thrum of pleasure to her core. He shakes against her back, his release hot inside of her, taking greedy pulls of her blood.

She's just begun to feel the cool sting of his bite, when he moves them, her limbs loose and pliant. He sits down on a stair, spreading her thighs across his lap. He guides her mouth to his throat, his head tipping back, a clear invitation for her bite. His hand returns to her hair, soothing now, as she pierces his skin.

Klaus lets out a soft moan, pressing up into her. Caroline rubs herself against his stomach as she drinks. The taste of him, has new flutters arousal stirring, and the barest hint of friction against her clit has her whimpering.

Caroline's head lifts, her eyes meeting Klaus'. He leans in to lick the blood from her lips, before he bends her backward, tongue tracing a droplet down her body. Caroline vaguely remembers something about a shower, but it seems unimportant, when he sucks her nipple into his mouth.

They don't leave the stairs for hours.

* * *

Caroline's awoken by a pesky beam of light, too close to her eyes. She grumbles rolling away from it and into Klaus. He shifts against her, rolling onto his back as she hides her face in the hollow of his shoulder.

It had taken years, for him to adjust, and not wake up with her every movement. Even now, should someone else approach their room, Klaus would be instantly alert, the intruder's neck snapped (it had happened to Kol, once or twice, when he attempted to drink all the Hurricanes in New Orleans, and got turned around).

Caroline tries to drift back into sleep, but finds it elusive.

Ugh, mornings.

They'd never been her favorite, and at over eighty years old, she's resigned to the fact that they probably never would be. Letting out a sigh, she runs her hands down Klaus' chest, enjoying the feel of his sleep warmed skin. Cracking her eyes open and glancing down, to where the single sheet barely covers his half hard cock, Caroline feels a grin stretch her face.

She supposed there were worst ways to wake up.

She lets a fingertip trace the hollow below his hipbone, relishes the little hitch in his even breaths as his body reacts to her touch.

If they were human, neither of them would be able to move, after last night. Yet another reason why Caroline loved being a vampire.

She always had, with the possible exception of those first terrifying hours, when she'd had no idea what was happening to her, _why_ it was happening to her.

She was good at it, _born_ for it, Klaus often said. She'd loved the strength, the speed, the power, from the second she'd tossed Damon Salvatore away from her like he was nothing.

Caroline had come to terms with the things she'd be giving up, grown used to the idea that she'd have to mourn people she loved. Knew in her bones that it was worth it, that she wanted eternity. To see and do and explore farther and wider than a measly 85 years (give or take) would have allowed her to.

Newly turned at seventeen the top perk, in Caroline's opinion, had been skipping the hormonal rollercoaster that women were cursed women to endure. Suffering backaches, breakouts, cramps, achy boobs, all consuming rage and an insatiable need for chocolate, in an ever repeating loop, was something Caroline was more than happy to give up.

She'd almost forgotten what it was like, to be a slave to a monthly cycle.

Until she'd moved in with Klaus.

This routine was far more pleasant. Wild full moon sex was great, slow and sensual the morning after, just as good. She looked forward to it, every month, once she'd realized the cause. Felt kind of like an idiot, that she hadn't noted it right away.

To be fair, it had taken a long while, though not quite a century, for them to get to the point where she'd have things to notice and connect the dots. Casual run ins (Caroline had always suspected that they were less random than Klaus would like her to believe) turned into occasional drinks, and then evenings out that she thought of as actual dates. And there was more than that. Something like friendship, the kind where they were comfortable in silence. Postcards (that Caroline kept), emails (that she usually read with a smile) birthday gifts, drunk dials, weekends (okay, sometimes just weeks) falling into bed together and rediscovering the chemistry that had always burned between them.

The gaps between encounters grew shorter and shorter. First a decade, than a few years. Eventually, she'd felt something missing, when more than a week passed without some kind of contact with Klaus.

_That_ had been a hell of a realization.

She'd stewed in it, avoided Klaus, lest his freaky perceptiveness pick up on a waiver in her voice, and have his Caroline senses tingling. He'd be at her door, as fast as modern technology (and ridiculous sums of money, and liberal compulsion) could get him, if he suspected something was wrong. He'd never pushed, in the 62 years they'd been doing their dance. But he'd never let her forget that he wanted her. All of her.

The fact that she wanted him too, was ready for him, was scary and exhilarating and definitely required a few days of contemplation. And planning, obviously.

Caroline had put things in motion, sneakily bought a house, in New Orleans, the city Klaus used as a home base, and orchestrated her own, 'Golly gee, isn't it a small world?' meet up.

The way his eyes had lit up, the smile she thought of as hers, crawling across his face, was the final piece Caroline had needed, to know that the thing between them, big and complicated and forever, was _right_.

Not that she'd made things easy on him.

But Klaus had easily picked up on the shift in her, on the way she no longer hid the more tender feelings she harbored. It had been what he was waiting for. And, having been given an opening, he set out to win.

Winning was something Klaus excelled at, something he rarely failed to do.

To the surprise of no one, who truly knew either of them, Caroline's cute little two bedroom had been on the market less than a year later, and she'd redecorated _his_ bedroom to make it _their_ bedroom. A little (okay, a lot) of compromise had been required. Klaus' preferred color palette reminded Caroline of a retro brothel and a little natural light never killed a vampire with a functional daylight ring now, did it?

They'd kept his bed frame, after much arguing. It was a little heavy and dark, for Caroline's tastes. But Klaus had been more than happy to demonstrate the sturdy post's advantages. And, once she'd insisted that turnabout was fair play, and had her own fun, she'd relented.

Her favorite compromise ever. Hands down.

A new mattress, and exorbitantly expensive, cloud-soft sheets had been a must, however. Caroline had not exactly been celibate, in the interludes between her and Klaus' meetings, and she'd had no expectation of fidelity from him, when things between them were undefined. She didn't care who he'd slept with before her, but she wanted no hint of them in their shared space, now that they were giving last love a go.

Klaus had been smugly satisfied with her jealousy. He'd never complained less, on any shopping trip she'd dragged him along on, before or since.

That should have been her first clue, that being with Klaus wasn't going to be quite like any other relationship Caroline had ever had.

It had taken a few months, before she'd picked up on it. On the rhythms he lived by. She'd been puzzled, at first, by subtle differences in his mood, in certain behaviors.

Not at all bothered by them, however.

_He's driving her crazy. Her body's burning, muscles pulled tight. Her fingers are ripping at the plush carpet beneath her, head hung low as she strains against Klaus' hold on her hips, and she's glad that vampire healing will take care of the burn on her knees before tomorrow._

_It was rarely pants weather, in New Orleans._

_She has no idea how long she's been like this, on her knees and forearms, in their living room, Klaus driving into her from behind, his fingers just ghosting over her clit. Every brush felt incredible leaving her trembling, but Klaus kept the edge she was straining for just out of her reach._

_He groans when she clenches tight around him, but resists her attempts to speed up, to change the angle, to get just a little more of him._

_Ragged moans spill from Caroline's lips, and she manages his name, "Klaus," drawn out and pleading._

_He tugs her hair, scraping his teeth down her spine. Caroline arches into the rough caress, the hint of pain lighting up her skin. Her head lifts, eyes opening to catch sight of the moon, bright and full, as Klaus rasps, "Tell me what you want, love. Maybe I'll give it to you," against her back._

_She's too far gone to protest, to make a coherent plea. Hoarse and desperate she does as he'd asks, begs for Klaus to touch her, to bite her, to make her come._

_He makes a noise, barely recognizable as human, his fingers pinching and rolling her clit as he sinks his fangs into her neck. She shatters, with a scream, her knees giving out and only his hands, gripping her hips and pulling her back onto his cock as he chases his own finish, keeps her from collapsing._

_He lets go with a moan, leaning heavily against her, shoving his wrist in front of Caroline's mouth and urging her to drink. Klaus buries his face in her hair, as she takes his blood, breathing deep and holding her close, until their shudders subside._

_And all the while, Caroline has an excellent view of the night sky._

_And then it clicks._

Klaus wasn't the first man she'd been with who was part werewolf. And while she was probably one of a very few vampires in existence who could claim such a thing, there were major differences between what she'd had with Tyler, and what she had now.

Caroline wasn't seventeen anymore, and she and Klaus didn't have mom's or curfews or homework and extracurriculars to worry about.

Living together was intimate. She'd discovered quirks and habits of Klaus' she'd never have imagined (and not all of them endearing, but Caroline recognized that some of hers likely weren't either).

She'd begun to pay attention, might have made some notes, and picked out little things that before she'd just chalked up to Klaus' general dislike for predictability and impulse control.

There were distinct patterns. In the things he wanted to eat, how much blood he needed. The amount of time he spent painting vs. the amount of time he spent on more physical activities. How often he wanted her, the positions he preferred. Definitive trends popped up. And they seemed to line up to the phases of the moon.

Caroline would be lying if she said the realization didn't result in a teeny bit of amusement, the idea that Klaus, 1000 years old, and feared the world over, was subject to the pull of the moon, in much the same way as hormonal teenage girls were.

She'd never say it out loud. Klaus' ability to be self-deprecating had its limits, even with her.

Besides, she was more than happy to enjoy the sexual perks of his werewolf nature's monthly fluctuations.

With that thought in mind, Caroline leans over him, runs her nose along his throat, presses a lingering kiss just below where his stubble begins. Klaus lets out a pleased hum, his hand twitching against her back. Caroline keeps moving down, tastes his skin as she goes. He jolts when she bites down playfully in his nipple, his eyes popping open to send her a glare.

"Morning!" Caroline chirps, unrepentant, moving her lips leisurely down the flat planes of his abdomen. She stops, just above the line of the sheet. She ignores the annoyed set of Klaus' face and sits up, throwing the cotton aside and kneeling between his legs.

She loves Klaus, has come to accept all versions of him, as he's always done for her. She'd be hard pressed to pick a favorite, but post-full moon Klaus _might_ be it.

She assumes his senses, already heightened, get an extra boost. He can never seem to get enough of her, of her scent or her taste, encourages her to be vocal, and watches her with a single minded focus that leaves her awed.

It's not like he's stingy with the orgasms the rest of the month. But directly following the full moon? Sometime she makes herself blush, just thinking about it. She figures she might as well show a little appreciation.

They always spend more time in bed than usual, the few days immediately following the full moon. Fucking and making love and sometimes just cuddling. It's not something she'd ever imagined doing with Klaus (the non-dirty stuff, at least) but there are few moments she enjoys more.

Klaus stretches, pulling Caroline away from her absent musings, and into the present. And there's no place she'd rather be, she thinks, looking down at him, enjoying the sight of his lean muscles bunching and flexing. He really is delicious, like this. Sleepy and content, his eyes dark and half lidded, body bare for her eyes only.

Caroline licks her lips, and his eyes follow the path her tongue traces. Klaus clears his throat, "Good morning," he greets, "I'm surprised you're so alert, love. Thought I'd get to rouse you with my tongue on your clit. I was so looking forward to it."

Caroline narrows her eyes at him, knowing exactly what he's trying to do. It's entirely successful, damn him, her body reacting to the idea.

And she's more than happy to let him do it. Any _other_ time. But she wants to taste him, watch him tremble for her, wants his eyes glazed and his chest heaving.

She feigns nonchalance, shrugging her shoulders, dismissing his words. Klaus' gaze falls to her breasts, expression growing hungry. Caroline shifts her position, making a pretense of getting comfortable. She holds his gaze as she drops one hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit while he watches. She sees him tense, knows he's about to sit up, so Caroline leans down, wrapping her hand around his cock and sucking the head into her mouth.

He lets out a strangled groan, falling back onto the pillows, his thigh tensing under the hand she's got braced on it. Caroline lets out a pleased moan in response, working more of his length into her mouth. She goes slowly, licking along the sensitive underside, before wrapping her lips around him again. She takes him deep, a hoarse foreign curse ringing out when she swallows around him. Caroline hollows her cheeks as she pulls back, flashing Klaus a smile, tinged in triumph, as her grip tightens on him, stroking him leisurely and occasionally thumbing the head. Klaus hands tear at the sheets, his hips jerking in time with her movements.

There's something immensely satisfying about having Klaus like this, practically putty in her hands, his lips parted and skin flushed. Caroline reaches down to touch herself again, unable to resist and knowing that he likes it, rubbing her clit harder, her eyes fluttering shut, beyond tempted to straddle him and take him inside of her.

Klaus, ever the opportunist, pounces.

She doesn't even see him move, just feels her body being shifted, so quickly it's disorienting. She's still kneeling, when he's done, just in a different position, Klaus' breath hot on her inner thigh. She registers the sight of the foot of their bed, and is about to complain, realizing his plan. But his hands are on her hips, drawing her down to his mouth and the long, slow lick he takes of her folds makes words fly from Caroline's brain, an unintelligible jumble of sound, embarrassingly high pitched when he swipes at her clit, is all that emerges from her mouth.

So not fair.

Klaus laughs, like he can sense what she's thinking, the vibration of it sending a flutter of need through her. He's unfairly good at this, his mouth greedy and tongue precise. She can't help but move, rocking against his face, her head thrown back. She falls forward, when his lips wrap around her clit, vision going white around the edges at the feel if it, planting her hands next to his torso to keep herself upright.

Caroline fights to hold on, because this had not been the plan, and would it kill Klaus to let her have her way, once in a while? Was a wake up blowjob really such a hardship?

He's harder than ever, precum leaking from the tip of his cock. The tip that's very close to Caroline's face, at the moment.

She feels a smirk emerging, just as Klaus' fingers push into her, his tongue focusing on her clit. Caroline lets her hands slide down, his body clenching under her touch, one of them reaching to fondle his balls, as the other one pulls his cock to her lips. Klaus goes rigid, underneath her, as she licks over the head, before running her lips down his length.

He lets out a moan, and doubles his efforts. And then it's a race both of them are determined to win.

Caroline bobs up and down rapidly, hands wrapped around what she can't swallow. It's hard to focus, her body twitching with pleasure under Klaus' gifted lips and tongue and teeth. Neither of them are quiet, gasps and moans mingling.

She can tell he's close, the lines of his abdomen taut, and it's only centuries of finely honed self-control keeping him in check. Maybe someday she'll have the same, but that day's not today. His tongue lashing her clit, in the fierce suction of his mouth, his fingers pressed hard to her g-spot, has Caroline rearing up, letting go with a wail, a wave of sensation leaving her panting. Klaus gives her no time to recover, sitting up and pulling her so her back rests against his chest, her knees outside of his. He works his cock inside of her, past her wildly clenching muscles. He doesn't move, just drops his hand to the apex of her thighs, and rolls her hyper sensitive clit in his clever fingers until Caroline's cursing. "That's it love," he says, his voice thick and dark and coaxing. "You feel so good, wrapped around my cock. One more. I want to feel it. I want you to come for me."

Her body's helpless to resist the demands he's making of it, and she lets go, calling his name as she falls apart. A deep groan of her name tears out of him, his hips moving and shoving his cock further inside of her, as he shudders through his own climax.

He shifts back, gathering her close and leaning against the headboard, reaching blindly for a blanket to cover them. His hands run gently over all the skin he can reach, as their heartbeats calm and breathing regulates.

It doesn't take long, until he's got his lips brushing over her shoulder, until he's got a handful of her breast, his cock hardening beneath her.

Caroline considers calling a time out, and running for a blood bag.

But Klaus is easing them down onto their sides, pulling her leg over his hip, as his tip presses against her entrance. She grabs his hand, brings his wrist to her mouth, brushing her lips over his pulse point in question. "May I?" she asks huskily.

"Always," Klaus confirms.

He's her favorite taste, so Caroline bites down without further prompting, letting out a moan as he fills her, his blood coating her tongue.

She really hadn't wanted to leave the bed. A good thing, because she's sure she won't be, until at least tomorrow.


	25. 25DaysofKlaroline15 - Day 11 and Day 13

**The Cure For This**

**(Written for Day 11 – Tropes of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Prompt from cupcakemolotov: KC + sex pollen. Title from 'Girl, You Have No Faith In Medicine' by The White Stripes. Smut).**

_Inhale. Exhale._

She wants to scream. And break things. And cry, just a little.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Her current predicament, if Caroline really thought about it, was all Elena's fault.

_Inhale. Exhale._

And wasn't that kind of the story of Caroline's life?

_Inhale. Exhale._

God, if she didn't love Elena, she'd really hate Elena.

_Inhale. Exhale._

A good chunk of her teenage insecurities? Because of Elena Gilbert's effortless perfection and catnip like appeal to boys Caroline wanted. She'd been turned to get to Elena, thrust into a whole new, scary world, almost died so many times she'd stopped counting, all to get to Elena.

_Inhale. Exhale._

And now she was trapped in some run down rented room, feeling like she was going to die if she couldn't get off.

_Inhale. Exhale._

A tearing sound, broke Caroline's concentration, and her head thumped back onto the mattress, the contents of her pillow littered under her head. Caroline stared resentfully at the ceiling, her fingers twisted in the ruined pillow.

The whole calming herself through mindful breathing idea was clearly a bust. She's thought she could distract herself, from her screaming body, from her out of control libido.

It didn't work. Her skin prickled, begging for touch, her stomach quivering and the space between her thighs uncomfortably slick and hot.

Freaking Elena and her stupid curse. And damn Damon and his obsession with breaking it!

He couldn't just wait, could he? What was sixty years, to a vampire, really? But no, he had to have Elena right now, screw everyone else. And the dick was an expert at playing on Bonnie's sympathies, on her guilt, to get what he wanted.

Bonnie's latest lead had led her to South America. She'd tracked down references to a witch who'd been something of a sleeping curse prodigy (and wasn't that a claim to fame?) in the early 19th century. Bonnie's sources said she was buried in Bolivia, and Bonnie thought she'd worked out a way to make contact, even though the collapse of The Other Side made it difficult. Spirits had to go somewhere, Bonnie had insisted.

Caroline had been skeptical, but the itch to travel had steadily grown, after her mother had died, and her ties to Mystic Falls weakened.

She could do Europe later, why not start somewhere warmer? She was totally a beach girl, after all.

So she'd offered to tag along and four days later Caroline had been trekking through the Amazon rainforest, several paces behind Bonnie and Enzo, awed by the colors and the smells and the sounds.

Too awed, which had led to her epic, and disastrous, bout of clumsiness.

Just once, she'd like for a walk in the woods to actually be a walk in the woods.

Stumbling off the path she'd landed face first in a patch of bright purple flowers. She'd sneezed loudly, and repeatedly, calling Bonnie and Enzo's attention to her.

Caroline had glanced up, sheepish, expecting to be mocked. But both Enzo and Bonnie had looked horrified. Stuttering, Bonnie had explained that the pretty purple blooms had been in the grimoire she'd been studying. And that they had a peculiar effect on vampires.

Totally something that should have been mentioned before, Caroline had admonished, even as she felt her temperature rising, the telltale stirrings in her belly making her uncomfortable.

Needless to say, they'd booked it back to the motel they were staying in, to regroup.

And they'd not left it since then.

Caroline leaped out of the bed, and resumed the pacing she'd been doing, before her failed attempts at breath exercises.

The door creaked open, Enzo's head peeking warily into the room, his eyes sympathetic, "Alright, gorgeous?"

Caroline's only response was a snarl. Her hand reached out blindly, snatched a lamp off the dresser (it was bolted down, but no match for her vampire strength and current state of agitation) and she flung it towards the door.

It's not that she didn't appreciate the concern. But she wasn't really in a state to deal with it graciously, between the demands her body was making, and her nerves about the person who'd been called in to help, whose arrival was imminent,

The cheap lamp smashed uselessly into the barrier Bonnie had produced to contain her (at Caroline's insistence, once the urges had gotten too great, and the temptation of people moving about outside nearly impossible to resist) and Enzo didn't even flinch as it shattered on the floor.

"Right," Enzo said casually, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, "I'll just take that as a no."

She turned away from him, swallowing back a growl. Her muscles ached, pulled tight and strained from the tension that had built up in the past few hours. The light cotton dress she wore was killing her. The whispers of the fabric against her skin, insanely sensitive from whatever witchy juju was screwing with her, were maddening and it was a struggle not to tear it off.

She wore nothing underneath, her nipples were stiff and her thighs were damp with her arousal, the scent of it obvious in the room.

She'd never been this turned on in her life, including the first few weeks after she'd become a vampire, when all she'd thought about was sex and blood.

She'd tried, she'd really really really tried, to fight it. Told herself mind over matter.

If anyone could muster the self-control to beat a vampire amative (the fact that she hadn't known that such a thing existed was completely unacceptable. She was going to have serious words, with Stefan and Damon at some point, because both of them sucked at teaching Vampire 101) coursing through her system, shouldn't it be Caroline? She'd mastered her cravings (for the most part), taught herself compulsion, for god's sake.

That had lasted about an hour. And then she'd kicked Bonnie and Enzo out of the room, and tried to take care of the, ahem, problem, herself.

The relief, after she'd rubbed herself to a quick orgasm, had been short lived. Another twitch of need had started before the last waves of pleasure had even receded. It had built and built, not allowing Caroline to catch her breath.

A second try had yielded the same result.

Caroline had flipped over and screamed into the pillow. Then she'd forced herself into an icy cold shower, hoping it would help her focus.

It hadn't. The idea of getting dressed had been nearly unbearable but she'd made herself throw on a maxi dress, and leave her room, and knock on the door to Bonnie and Enzo's.

They'd let her in, sat down on the rickety chairs in the corner of their room, appearing various shades of guilty, awkward and uncomfortable. Caroline had remained standing, gritting her teeth and fighting to control her libido.

She'd found herself eyeing them hungrily, dirty fantasies bubbling through her brain. Flashes of Enzo's rough hands on her hips as he drove into her, images of her mouth creeping up Bonnie's thigh, tasting the skin while her friend trembled underneath them, flitted through Caroline's mind, leaving her panting and gripping the back of a chair to keep from pouncing.

That's when she knew she was in trouble.

Because those weren't thoughts she'd have, normally. She recognized that both Bonnie and Enzo were smoking hot individuals, of course. But they were strictly in the platonic pile, and grossly cute and devoted to each other, in a way Caroline would never interfere with.

"How do we fix this?" she gritted out, noticing the weathered grimoire, and Bonnie's open laptop, on the small table.

Bonnie looked like she'd swallowed a lemon, and she and Enzo exchanged significant looks. Finally Enzo sighed, and turned to Caroline, "You need to have sex," he'd informed her bluntly.

A dry laugh had fallen from Caroline's mouth, "No shit, Enzo. But I'm pretty sure your ears are more than good enough to hear what I just got up to. And it didn't help. There has to be more."

"The book is… vague," Bonnie said hesitantly. "It sounds like you could continue to, ah, self-stimulate, but it would take a while, and things would get worse before they'd get better."

"How long's awhile?" Caroline asked.

"Days. Maybe a week. Possibly more. It sounds like you got a bigger dose of the stimulant then recommended."

Caroline barely noticed the chair breaking under her grip. "Great," she muttered. "Just great. I guess I'll be in my room for the next week or so then, masturbating until I'm no longer desperately horny. Awesome trip, guys. Let's totally never do this again."

She turned to leave, positive that this will be humiliating later, once she's in control of herself, but Enzo's voice stopped her, "The notes say it'll burn through you faster, with a partner."

Caroline shook her head, dismissing that idea, "I'll break a human, like this. I won't be able to control my strength. And where are we going to find a vampire?"

More of those significant looks were tossed between Bonnie and Enzo. And Caroline began to get annoyed. "Spit it out," she'd demanded.

"We already called someone," Enzo had kindly informed her. "He said he'd take the next plane out."

Caroline stiffened at the proclamation, her eyes narrowing, "Who?" she'd bitten out. The options were limited, and she hadn't liked either of them. The thought of Damon ever touching her again made Caroline ill, and things were just beginning to get back on track with Stefan, after their disastrous attempt to trick themselves into thinking their friendship could be more. Adding obligation-sex to that equation is was not something Caroline wanted to do.

Plus the sex had always been kind of lacking, if she was being completely honest.

But it's not one of the Salvatore's names that Enzo had dropped.

"Klaus?" Caroline repeated, her voice pitching high in shock, "You called Klaus? How…"

"I have his number," Bonnie admitted guiltily, averting her eyes from Caroline's. "For emergencies."

"What kind of…" Caroline began, before pressing her mouth together, and deciding that she hadn't really wanted to know. "What did you…"

Bonnie didn't make her finish, "I just told him where we were, what we were here looking for. What happened. That you…"

"Am a completely incompetent vampire that freaking tripped and ended up with a face full of sex pollen?" Caroline finished, her volume increasing with every word.

Bonnie had looked lost, but Enzo managed to answer, "That was the gist of what we told him, yes. Luckily, he seemed to know his way around the stuff. Said blood will help with the symptoms, hold off the worst of the pain. Told us to acquire some, if we knew what was good for us."

"Pain?" Caroline had shrieked, ignoring the fact that Klaus seemed to think threats were kosher (for now).

Both Bonnie and Enzo had winced in tandem, "Right, did we forget to mention that part?" Enzo said, looking chagrined.

A disgusted noise was Caroline's only answer, as she'd stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Shortly after, Enzo had knocked, telling her he'd brought the blood. Grudgingly, because she'd been was starving, she'd let him in. Caroline had torn into a bag, than another, hoping it would quell the discomfort that she could feel building in her bones, before the feeling progressed to the pain that was apparently coming.

She'd tried to pace herself, but that hadn't lasted long. She'd sucked down bag after bag, barely tasting it, growing shakier. Caroline was unaware of the time passing, only conscious of the throbbing of her body, the pangs, of discomfort mingled with want, growing more and more difficult to ignore. Her skin was damp, hot to the touch, her hair a wild mess from all the times she'd run her hands through it, all the times she'd pulled on the ends, in an attempt to force herself to focus.

Caroline knows she probably looks terrible, any makeup long since sweated off.

So not how she'd imagined seeing Klaus again.

In all her fantasies, of the next time they saw each other (and there'd been plenty), she's perfectly put together, whether he's the one surprising her, somewhere far from Mystic Falls, or she's the one, finally getting the guts to do what he'd once said she would, and showing up at his door. Sometimes she imagined stealing into a party he'd thrown, dressed to the nines, cool and collected and challenging him not to look shocked, in front of a room full of people. He's always thrilled to see her, in her head.

But, of course, in Caroline's life, things never work out quite like she wants them to.

She's been getting updates, on Klaus' progress, from Bonnie. To her friend's credit, she's managed to keep any commentary to herself, though Caroline imagines they'll be in for a good, long, awkward girl talk, once this situation has been dealt with.

Caroline's _so not_ looking forward to that.

She'd been informed when he landed in La Paz, when he'd boarded the smaller aircraft that would take him to the corner of the country they were in. She's not been able to bring herself to pick up her own phone, and check to see if he'd contacted her directly.

Because seriously, what would she even _say_?

Bonnie had tapped on the door fifteen minutes ago, saying that she and Enzo were leaving (and compelling all the other guests to do the same…), that Klaus would arrive shortly, and did Caroline need anything else?

She'd croaked out a no, and sat down heavily on the bed, her thighs clenched together and her hands gripping the edge of the mattress.

The time to figure out what she'd say to Klaus was now, but Caroline still had nothing.

Words failed her, even when the door creaked open, when Klaus leaned against it, dropping his bag to the floor, exactly as she remembered him, and said, "Hello, Caroline."

The way he said her name had never been fair.

The noise that comes from Caroline's mouth is barely human, and she's off the bed without actively deciding to move, like she'd been catapulted, her hands in his hair and her legs around his waist in the next moment.

He catches her easily, using her momentum to spin them, slamming her back into a wall so hard she hears a crack. His hips pin hers, and she moans at the press of him between her thighs, cursing his jeans and her dress, bunched between them. She tried to push back, desperate for him to move, but he doesn't, and his hands are hard on her wrists, trapping them next to her head. Klaus looks at her for a long moment, cool and assessing. She manages to say his name, the thread of need obvious in the way she draws it out.

He looks pained, for a moment, but then he releases her, his hands dropping to her thighs and lifting her higher, taking two long strides and dropping her to the bed, following her down. Caroline claws at his shirt, and it comes off in shreds. Klaus doesn't seem to mind, flinging the remnants away. He sits up on his knees, and a protesting whimper emerges, as her legs lock around him, pressing her core into his hardening cock, needing his skin on hers.

"Shh, love," Klaus says, low and reassuring, his palms easing her dress up her thighs, "I'll take care of you, alright? Anything you need."

Caroline reaches for him, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling herself up and into his lap, grinding down with a moan. She slides her hand into the curls at the back of his head, pulling until his head tips back, and she can cover his mouth with hers.

He tastes better then she remembers, and she's greedy for more, biting down on his full lower lip until his mouth falls open, her tongue slipping inside to tease his. She can feel Klaus' hands on her hips, pulling her into him harder as she circles hers. She has to tear her mouth from his, has to gasp when she feels an orgasm building, the familiar tingle crawling up her spine.

She clutches at his back, rubs her nipples against the firm wall of his chest, "Klaus," she moans, moving against him frantically. She's never actually come like this before, didn't think it was possible. And maybe it's the hours of buildup, maybe it's the scent of him, one that she's never been able to forget, all around her, but she lets go with a shout, shuddering through it.

She buries her face in Klaus' throat, as she comes down, the haze of desire slightly abated, though she knows it will return quickly. He lets out a soft chuckle, running his fingers lightly down her back. He tries to pull away, but she burrows in further, the heat in her cheeks letting her know she'd probably fire-engine red, "I'm sorry," she mutters, her voice cracking.

The next thing she knows she's flat on her back, Klaus looming over her, looking quizzical as he smooths her tangled curls away from her face, "Whatever for?" he asks, appearing genuinely puzzled.

Caroline's pretty sure she's looking at him like he's nuts, "Um, let's see. I'm sorry the first time we see each other again is because I did something idiotic and needed your help. I'm sorry you had to fly across the world to supply said help. I'm sorry I didn't call you myself, and remind me to apologize for Bonnie for that one later too, I'm…"

"Would you have, Caroline?" he interrupts, before she can really get going. "Called me? Or would you have suffered, if your friends hadn't have taken the initiative?"

She shifts against him uncomfortable, as she's always been, with the way he sometimes looks at her, the way he _sees_ her.

It's unnerving for a girl used to being overlooked and underestimated.

The shifting's a mistake, sending a new pulse through her, as she luxuriates in the lean lines of him pressed against her, and Caroline fights back a moan, her eyes fluttering shut.

When she opens them, Klaus is still staring down at her expectantly, though the tightness in her jaw lets her know he's not entirely unaffected by their proximity. "I wouldn't have," Caroline blurts out, and she almost misses the subtle way Klaus' face falls, probably would have, had they not been so close. "Not because I wouldn't have wanted to. Because I…" she struggles for words, looking away from him, and his too knowing eyes.

Klaus hand touches her cheek, gentle fingers tilting her chin back towards him, "Tell me why, Caroline. I said I'd help you, yes? Whatever you say, that won't change. It's no hardship, love. To be here. To have you underneath me, to touch you and watch you come apart."

That sends another flash of want through her, and she widens her legs, letting out a sigh when he settles against where she's aching for him.

"Caroline," he prods, his nose brushing her cheekbone.

She takes a shaky breath, before she speaks, screwing up her courage. "Because I didn't want it to be like this, okay?" Caroline bursts out, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't want it to be some life or death supernatural crap. I didn't want to need something from you. I wanted it to be _my_ choice."

Whatever response she'd been expecting, it's not the grin that lights Klaus' face. It's not his mouth, swooping down, taking hers with a fierceness that leaves her panting and squirming. She tries to follow, when he pulls away, but Klaus rests his forehead on hers, "Next time," he tells her simply, tone low and gravelly, flashing another smile, before he drags his lips down, planting a hot kiss on her throat.

He keeps going, tearing the straps of her dress off, dragging the fabric down her body. He kisses her breasts, sucks and bites until she's writhing under him, mindless little pleas for more spilling from her. He smirks, before he moves lower, nipping down her stomach, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, appreciative rumbles coming from him. He kisses her navel, drawing her thighs up, settling between them on his elbows, like he's planning on staying awhile.

The thought has her back arching, and her hands twisting into the bedsheets, to stop herself from grabbing a handful of his hair, and dragging him to where she wants him.

His lips just brush her folds, before he's pulling back, and Caroline whines in protest, no longer capable of feeling embarrassed by how badly she wants him. "And no more apologies, love," he murmurs, meeting her eyes. She sucks in a breath, at the heated promise in his gaze, her toes curling in anticipation, "They are completely unnecessary. Trust me."

There's a joke, ready to tumble out of her, but then Klaus' fingers are parting her, and his tongue's teasing her clit with tiny swipes and rough circles.

And then it's a long time, until Caroline's able to verbalize a thought that makes any kind of sense.

**Don't Stand So Close To Me**

**(Written for Day 13 – High School of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Prompt from klarolineforevermine: "I'm the drama teacher and you're the only who can actually act, help me demonstrate this love scene to my students" AU Title from The Police song. Rated T).**

It was a struggle for Caroline, not to visible cringe, at the sight before her. This was supposed to be epic, life changing, romance. The stuff dreams were made of.

On the page it was. In life, right now? Not so much.

The leading man was clearly nursing a ginormous, and painfully unrequited crush on his scene partner. He was tomato red, and his voice kept cracking.

Not exactly apropos, when he was supposed to be playing a sophisticated, charming, Frenchman.

To the leading lady, Lucy's, credit, she was trying. She tended to go a bit dead in the eyes, and flat in the face, thinking too hard about her next move. But Caroline knew that could be worked on, would improve, as she got more comfortable with the lines. Lucy was a hell of a singer, and an even better dancer. And she was nice enough not to laugh at the poor kid making desperate heart eyes at her.

If she'd known that assistant directing her alma mater's spring musical was going to turn into directing-directing the show she might have said no. Even though she'd talked one of her stage craft professors into letting her use the experience as a final project.

She wasn't sure if even that was worth it sometimes.

Caroline called cut, just before the actor playing Emile attempted a kiss.

A not-so-quiet mutter of, "Oh, thank god," had nervous giggles erupting from the others who'd been watching the rehearsal. And left both of the actors on stage shuffling awkwardly, looking anywhere but at each other.

Caroline closed her eyes in annoyance, recognizing the voice. He'd been a general thorn in her side, since the first day she'd showed up (she _might_ have totally checked him out – in her defense he did not look like he was still in high school) to help out with the musical. He'd been pushing desks aside, sleeves rolled up to reveal very ogleable forearms, and she'd kind of assumed that he was another recruit, like she was. Not a student.

That was until Mrs. Rogers, Caroline's old drama teacher (and dab hand at a guilt trip, hence Caroline agreeing to make the drive from Whitmore, several times a week) had introduced him. His name was Klaus Mikaelson, and he'd transferred in at the beginning of the year. A senior, and judging by the tattoo Caroline had noticed peeking out from the collar of his shirts occasionally, over eighteen, but a high schooler nonetheless.

Not her finest moment. Caroline thought she'd be at least thirty, before the first time she felt like a pervy old lady.

She might have flushed a little, her appreciative thoughts about how good his ass looked in jeans still fresh in her mind, when she'd shaken his hand, and told him it was nice to meet him.

"Likewise, Caroline," he'd drawled, "Mrs. Rogers has been most effusive, about your talents." The little smirk he'd given her, the way his eyes had dropped, lingering on the length of her legs, left bare by her shorts, made it pretty clear to Caroline that he wasn't exactly uninterested in her.

A small comfort, at the time. He was a student, Caroline kept reminding herself. And therefore 110% off limits.

But seriously, adding the accent on top of his physical attributes was just not fair.

Which might have been why Caroline spent some time googling the legalities, of her situation. Just for curiosities sake. Consensus seemed to be that hooking up with him wouldn't exactly kosher, but since she was a volunteer, the internet seemed to think that Caroline _probably_ wouldn't get arrested for it. A good thing, because _that_ would be an awkward mother-daughter moment.

Not that she thought about sleeping with Klaus. Or was planning to, obviously.

Caroline realized that the room was unusually silent, than everyone was staring at her curiously, probably because she'd not said anything after halting the scene. Oops. She shook her thoughts away, and forced herself to focus.

Caroline stood up, and clapped her hands together, forcing a cheerful tone, "Good work, everyone! Why don't we take ten? Meet back here when you're done and we'll try this scene again."

Chairs scraped and bags were shuffled, quiet conversations starting up as the high schoolers drifted out of the room, "Except you, Klaus," Caroline said sternly, pinning him with a hard look.

He hadn't left his seat, and he held up his hands, a deceptively angelic look on his face, "Whatever you say, Miss Forbes. Have I been very naughty?"

People still within earshot let out giggles, but Caroline ignored them, eyeing them until they left the room.

She really, really did not miss high school.

"Cut the crap, Klaus," Caroline bit out, once the doors closed behind the stragglers, "I don't have time for your 'I'm too cool for this' BS, okay? We've got only a couple more weeks to pull everything together. And frankly, I have a lot of other things on my plate. If you don't want to be here, you know where the door is. I can pull someone from the ensemble to take over Captain Brackett."

Klaus had left his chair, during her rant, ambling towards her, stopping just a little too close for Caroline's comfort. His hands were in his pockets, but his face had changed, softened, "You sound a mite stressed, love."

"Understatement," Caroline said, letting out a short laugh, "I get that Mrs. Rodgers didn't know she'd be on bedrest but this is way more work than I was planning on."

"I think you're doing quite well," Klaus tells her, quiet and sincere.

Caroline shoots him a skeptical look, ignoring the tiny spark of gratitude at the reassurance, "Really?" she asks dryly, "because your commentary suggests otherwise."

"I'm not mocking you, love."

"Because mocking your fellow actors is so much better?" Caroline asks pointedly.

He has the grace to look chagrined, "Perhaps you've a point."

"Duh. And guess what, making fun of Adam isn't going to make him feel less awkward, you jerk. And I _need_ him to feel less awkward. So everyone else will feel less awkward."

"Yes. He's coming across a bit virginal, is he not? Not exactly what the part calls for."

Caroline pinches the bridge of her nose, to keep herself from groaning at how right Klaus was. And about the fact that she had no idea how to fix it.

Klaus chuckles, "Perhaps you should sit him down for a bit of a birds and the bees chat, yeah? Maybe if he knows how things work he won't be so scared."

"Is this you helping?" Caroline deadpans. "Because it's not helpful. At all."

Instead of answering Klaus grabs her hand. Caroline feels her brows shoot up, and she glances down to where his thumb is tracing small, shiver inducing, circles over her wrist, "It'll work out, Caroline," he tells her, his voice brimming with confidence that she wishes she had. "I promise."

She knows she probably shouldn't be letting him touch her. But it kind of feels _really_ good.

"How old are you?" Caroline finds herself blurting out, immediately wishing she could take it back, and watching a slow, pleased, grin slide across his face.

"I'll be nineteen in July."

A little older than she'd thought (and maybe a couple of months didn't really matter, but they couldn't hurt!) and Caroline vaguely wonders if he's inflating things, in hopes of getting himself a better shot, "And if I wanted proof of that?" she wonders, a note of suspicion creeping out.

Klaus appears unoffended, dropping her hand and digging out his wallet. He rifles through it, before handing her his driver's license. She studies it, notes the birthdate, and the fact that he's telling the truth.

"And you graduated two years ago, according to the spiel Mrs. Rogers gave us."

"Twenty-one in October," Caroline tells him, having a good idea of where he's going with this.

"Less than two years. Barely worth noting," Klaus says, smirking at her while he puts his wallet away, edging closer, until she can feel the heat of him, inches from her skin.

Caroline rolls her eyes, taking a step away from. It takes more effort than it should. "Says you," she retorts. "I've never been into younger guys." Technically true. She could admit, to herself, that Klaus was an exception, but he didn't need to know that.

"Mmm," Klaus murmurs knowingly, "I'd believe that, but you're not exactly subtle, when you undress me with your eyes."

She feels her jaw drop, at how baldly he'd stated that (because she had been discrete, damn it!), and she reaches out to shove him, as she denies, "I do _not_ do that!"

Klaus dodges her easily, his laughter ringing out, "Don't be ashamed, love. I find it incredibly flattering."

Caroline sputters, groping for a reply, when she hears the door to the classroom creak open, "Just shut up," she hisses, to a still laughing Klaus, spinning on her heel and stalking to the center of the room.

She pastes a smile on, as she waits for everyone to trickle in and settle down. "Alright!" she says, once she seems to have everyone's attention. "Now, would anyone like to share their thoughts on the scene we've been working on?"

She's met with downcast eyes and uneasy shifting. Holding back a sigh, and silently apologizing, she looks over at Jessica, the quiet girl who plays Liat, who's struck Caroline as being more observant then most of her fellow students, "Come on now, judgement free zone, remember? Jessica, what did you think?"

"Well…" the girl hedges, glancing around, "it was a little uh… stiff? Not super romantic."

Caroline can work with that. "Good, that's good feedback," she praises. "And I agree, but we can work on that. Now, I'm going to step into the Nellie role, and Klaus has graciously offered to play Emile for a moment."

He hadn't and he wouldn't have, even if she'd bothered asking. But payback was a bitch, wasn't it?

Klaus' eyes widen, "I can't sing like that," he protests, even as he gets reluctantly to his feet, his hands nervously straightening his shirt.

She knows. He's a good actor, but a subpar singer. Which explains why his part doesn't require it. "That's fine," Caroline tells him breezily. Because she's not completely heartless. "Adam and Lucy will do the vocals. It'll be good practice for them."

A hint of relief enters Klaus' expression, and his movements turn back into his usual swagger, a hint of mischief brightening his blue eyes, "Where do you want me then, Miss Forbes?"

Caroline narrows her eyes at him warningly, for the flirty tone he's adopted. He blinks at her, feigning confusion. She can't say anything, not with dozens of eyes watching them, and he knows it. She turns slightly away, making sure her principle actors are paying attention. "Now, you have to remember that Emile is older than Nellie. He's already been married, already lived. So he knows what he wants. And he goes after it. He's persuasive. Passionate. He…" Caroline lets out a squeak, not having noticed Klaus move closer, as she'd shifted into lecture mode. He's wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her body into the line of his. She can feel his breath on her neck.

She really hadn't expected this to backfire so quickly.

Caroline swallows, ignoring the nervous butterflies making their presence known, struggling to keep her tone even, "Don't be afraid to touch each other. Body language is important. Your characters are drawn to each other, irresistibly, despite their differences. There has to be a physical component, right? They want each other."

Klaus hums, and he's very quiet, speaking so low that Caroline only just catches what he says, and he's pressed right up against her, his lips nearly brushing her ear, "I do like it when you talk dirty, love. I'd like it even better if we were alone."

Klaus' hand drifts down her back, dangerously low. She's glad no one else can see it, when his fingertip traces along the waistband of her shorts.

Caroline inhales, a touch shaky, before she steps back, away from Klaus. "Let's take it from the proposal."

"Nellie, will you marry me?" Klaus asks, shifting into character, instantly nervous and plaintive and perfect. She kind of hates him for it, her skin still tingling from where his had brushed it.

Luckily, he has a few more lines, enough for Caroline to remember hers.

He looks almost impressed, when she doesn't falter, his gaze appreciative. It makes her want to roll her eyes, and makes it easier to ignore the way her body wants to fling itself at his.

Stupid body. As if she'd ever let herself reward that kind of cockiness.

The scene continues, and Caroline melts into it, their lines flowing nicely, and the push-pull of their bodies feeling natural.

And she maybe clings to him a little more than she should. But it's totally in the script. The little gasp Klaus emits when she pushes her hips into his, way more than necessary, is kind of satisfying.

When they're done, a few people clap, and Caroline laughs, takes a theatrical curtsey, while Klaus flees the attention. "Why thank you! Was that helpful?"

Lucy looks thoughtful, Adam a bit intimidated, but they both nod gamely. "Why don't you two try it?" Caroline instructs. "Don't worry about nailing the lines, just work on the movements, and get more comfortable."

Both get to their feet, and Caroline lets them take her and Klaus' place, in the center of the room. She retakes her chair, feels Klaus behind her. His fingertips brush fleetingly along her shoulders, and then his low voice is in her ear again, "That was quite a performance."

"Thank you," Caroline replies, feigning modesty.

Tell me. If I were to ask you out, what would you say?"

She checks to make sure no one's paying attention. All eyes seem to be on the scene (slightly less stilted then before, she's thrilled to note) playing out, so she thinks she's safe. Caroline turns her head, just so she can see Klaus' face, resting on the arm he's got draped over the back of the chair next to her, "Right now? I'd say no."

Klaus' face falls, but Caroline continues, before he sits back, "But if you were to ask me after we wrapped, well…" she lets her thought trail off, lets a teasing smile curl her lips as her eyes dart down to his.

Because screw it. She's not exactly a stranger to sex. And the things Klaus had made her feel, in the scant few minutes she'd spent in his arms, were worth exploring. Call it chemistry, or compatibility. It's what Caroline would be thinking about, when she went to bed tonight.

Klaus looks intrigued, leaning in closer, "Well?" he prompts.

Caroline shrugs, making a show of turning her attention to the actors, "I guess you'll just have to ask and see, won't you?"

(He does, the second he walks off stage after taking his bow, tugging her behind a curtain, before she can even utter a good job. She says yes, and kisses him, fast and messy and exhilarating, to the sounds of the applause still echoing through the theater).


	26. 25DaysofKlaroline15 - Day 19

**Which Road**

**(Written for Day 19 - Human Klaus Time of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Prompt from queenvampirebarbie: Caroline grew up with the Mikaelson's and are practically part of their family. Caroline is finally of marriage age. FLUFFY! Title from 'Landlocked Blues' by Bright Eyes. Rated K+).**

Klaus had no concept of how long he has walked, or how far. He pays no attention direction, merely avoids anywhere he risks running into other people, his strides long and purposeful. He needs the distance.

He had to get away.

From his father, from the villagers who looked at him with pity, or worse. From Rebekah fussing at him, and Kol attempting to be jovial. From Elijah. From Tatia and her divided attentions.

He thinks fleetingly of leaving. Of finding a way back to the old world. Because surely, whatever his parents had said, it could be no worse than this?

But Klaus dismisses the idea, almost as soon as it is fully formed.

If he were to leave, who knows where Mikael would turn the brunt of his anger and disappointment? His father is brusque with Kol, and tolerant of Henrik. But rarely harsh. Would that change, with Klaus gone?

He cannot risk it. But it is a nice dream.

Klaus only pauses when the sun begins to set, knowing he has missed the evening meal. Hardly the first time, and he wonders if it would be so bad, to sleep outside, and head back in the morning. Whatever punishment Mikael metes out would be worth it, Klaus thinks. For freedom, if only for a single night.

Klaus is startled out of his musings, by a movement in his periphery. And then he hears the growls. Low and menacing, followed by sharp barks.

He turns slowly, and is relieved to see a pair of herding dogs. Not overly large, though they seem to be agitated, hackles raised and teeth bared. Klaus crouches, holds out his hands. One inches forward cautiously, sniffing, before allowing Klaus to lay his hand on its head.

He gives the dog's ears a scratch, glancing around to get his bearings. He's left the village proper, and has wandered on to one of the surrounding farms. One he recognizes, as he'd often been sent to it, to fetch Rebekah, before she'd been old enough to be trusted to make the trek herself.

The second dog approaches, tail wagging gently, and Klaus gives her the same attention, "Rosta, Geri," he greets fondly, recalling their names. "You will have to forgive me for not recognizing you, hmm? You were little more than pups, the last time I was out here."

Rosta flops onto her side, and Klaus obligingly rubs her offered belly, assuming he has been forgiven.

A whistle sounds, from the direction of the stone cottage, and both dogs perk up, once more beginning to bark. A figure rounds the corner, loose blonde waves bright in the fading light. He knows it is Caroline then. In the sixteen or so years since the Forbes family arrived in this village, Klaus has never once seen Liz without her hair tightly pulled back.

He stands, dusting off his knees. He's about to offer a greeting, but Caroline beats him to it, her voice hard and demanding, "Who's there?"

She's got a lantern in one hand, and metal glints in the other. The dogs leave Klaus' side, circling her.

"I mean you no harm, Caroline," Klaus calls over, taking slow steps in her direction. "I've just wandered a bit far."

She raises her light higher, as Klaus steps into it. He spies an axe in her hand but she relaxes, once she sees his face. "Far is understating it. And I do not appreciate the fright, Niklaus," Caroline admonishes.

Klaus bows his head, in apology, "Forgive me."

"I suppose I can. What brings you all the way out here?" Caroline asks, her blue eyes bright and curious.

"Nothing. I was just walking. Lost track of the time." It's a deflection, one he's hoping she'll accept.

A brief look of understanding softens Caroline's features, "Have you eaten? You'll never make it home in time for supper. And I imagine there's rarely much left on your family's table, with so many mouths to feed."

Caroline makes the offer casually, no pity in her tone, and Klaus finds himself agreeing, "Between Kol and Henrik there will hardly be a crumb to be found."

A quick smile lights her face, and Klaus finds himself staring at her, rather more intently then he thinks he should. He's known Caroline since she was tiny, barely two years old. She'd taken to Rebekah immediately, the two of them close in age. They'd been constantly underfoot as children, noisy and always wanting to be doing what Klaus and Kol had been.

When he thinks of Caroline Forbes he thinks of haphazard braids, gangly limbs. He remembers freckles and cheeks turned pink by wind and sun, boisterous giggles and incessant questions. A love of climbing trees and a distaste for standing still.

He'd not noticed that she'd grown up, until this very moment, and Klaus wonders how that's possible. Her face blossomed into true beauty. And the soft curves of her hips and bust, plainly visible despite the long dress she wears, reveal there's nothing childish about her any longer.

Klaus realizes that he's been silent for too long, and that it is quite possible that she will have noted that his regard has turned admiring.

If Caroline has, she makes no mention of it, there is no hint of shyness or simpering in her expectant posture, "My mother's been ill, so it is not grand. Just bread and soup but I am happy to share."

Klaus clears his throat, and nods, finding a reply difficult to form. A first for him, in Caroline's presence.

She turns, motioning for him to follow, and the dogs bound at their heels. "Would you like me to take those?" Klaus asks finally, motioning to her hands. It's only polite, he thinks, even as he cringes at the stilted way the offer emerges.

Caroline shoots him a questioning look, before handing him the lantern, "I'll keep the axe, if you don't mind. My mother prefers me to be armed, in the company of strange men."

She says it with a laugh, and Klaus finds himself grinning back. He'd wager that Caroline is more than proficient, at yielding the axe. He wouldn't be surprised if she knew her way around blades and bows as well. Elizabeth Forbes scoffed at the idea that women should rely on men for protection, something his father had often derided her for in private.

He knows that Rebekah carries a small knife, gifted to her on her sixteenth birthday, courtesy of Caroline's mother.

"Smart woman, your mother," Klaus comments approvingly, "I hope her sickness is not serious?"

"No, she's on the mend. Tried to go out and tend to the animals herself, but I insisted she go to bed early. Harvest will be soon enough, and she'll run herself ragged."

Caroline sounds exasperated, and Klaus could only imagine how that conversation had gone. Caroline was headstrong, a trait she seemed to have inherited from her mother. When William Forbes had died, his young widow had been inundated with offers for her hand. Liz had refused them all, and proven those would whispered that she'd be destitute and begging wrong. The Forbes women managed their farm, and their livestock, all on their own, and had managed to prosper, silencing all doubters and earning respect.

Liz had been refusing offers for Caroline's hand, and a share of their wealth, since Caroline's fourteenth birthday, or so the rumors went.

Looking at Caroline now, Klaus assumed that those offers were not purely made in the hopes of a comfortable future. A man could do far worse, for a wife.

"You are awfully pensive this evening, Niklaus," Caroline says, nudging him with her elbow, and breaking him from his thoughts.

Klaus shakes his head, pressing his arm into hers, "Perhaps I'm just waiting for you to begin chattering, love. It's what I'm used to, and it would be impolite to refuse to listen, since you have offered me food."

The look she favors him with, as they reach the door to her home, is narrow eyed and unimpressed. She shoos the dogs away, and they dart off towards the fields. "That seemed like an insult. And I'm certain that's not polite either."

"Not an insult a statement of fact," Klaus teases gently.

"Perhaps I've matured," Caroline shoots back.

"Perhaps," Klaus agrees, with a laugh, marveling at how closely her words had mirrored his thoughts. He sets the lantern on the rough wooden table in the center of the room. Caroline grabs a candle, lights it, and several others, before she busies herself in stoking the fire.

"The soup will take a few minutes to heat," she tells him, sinking into a chair and gesturing to the one across from her.

Klaus takes it, his eyes drawn to her face, in the low light. He notes the freckles are still there, though they are fewer in number, and that her skin is fair and lovely.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Caroline blurts out. Her lashes drop, as soon as the sentence is out, teeth biting down on her lower lip. "I mean…" she stammers, before falling silent once more. She darts a quick glance up, before looking away, shifting restlessly. "Forget I said that. I should not have. I'm being silly. And fanciful. And improper. And I am trying to stop all of that."

"Why?" Klaus asks, genuinely curious.

Caroline sighs, her eyes rolling towards the ceiling. Her fingers knot together on the table, "Because I'm not a child any longer. I have responsibilities. My mother says I can take my time, in choosing a husband. But the work grows harder for her every year. I would like to ease that burden, and marrying seems the best way. The only way."

"I fail to see what one thing has to do with the other, sweetheart."

Caroline huffs, the sound slightly disdainful, "Of course _you_ wouldn't. Those who have offered for me have been the wrong kind of men. They want what I can give them. They would be more of a hindrance, then a help, in the long run. And maybe the right sort wants something different. Someone more… docile."

Klaus struggles to turn his disbelieving snort into a cough. He's unsuccessful, given the stiffening of Caroline's shoulders, the angry line her lips are pressed into. He doesn't think that Caroline has even a passing acquaintance with such a thing as docility. As bright and willful as she is, it's a wonder to Klaus that she would even think to attempt it.

"I think," Klaus begins, choosing his words carefully, "that the right sort of man would not want you to stifle yourself, would he?"

"I will not know until I try, will I?" Caroline snaps back, standing up to tend to the pot over the hearth.

It bothers Klaus, the idea of her trying. It is not his concern, but he cannot seem to brush the thought aside. He tries a different tactic, "Would your mother be happy, knowing you were not?"

Her spine straightens, and a vigorous stir sends liquid hissing into the fire, "I could make her think I was happy."

"I doubt it," Klaus tells her. Elizabeth Forbes is an observant woman, and fiercely protective of her only child.

"I would thank you," Caroline mutters, her back still to him, "not to meddle in my affairs. I think yours are messy enough."

It is a pointed statement, and more than mildly judgmental, and Klaus finds himself bristling. "And what would you know of that?"

"Women talk, Niklaus," she tells him, dripping condescension, her movement's jerky as she ladles soup into a bowl. She sets it down in front of him with a clang, before returning to her seat. "Few more then Tatia. I have never encountered a more boastful person. I know far more of you, and Elijah, and your appetites, then I care to."

Klaus feels his ears heat, and anger gnaws at him, at the idea that others are privy to what he had believed to be private moments. He stares into the bowl in front of him, reaches for the spoon Caroline had set in front of him mechanically.

Klaus begins to eat, and the silence becomes heavy, the only sounds he hears are Caroline's even breaths, and the crackling of the fire.

"She's very… complimentary," Caroline ventures. "If that helps."

"It does not," Klaus clips. Caroline looks guilty, when he chances a glance up, and he softens. "But I believe that it is better that I know that Tatia has been free with her words. Does Rebekah…"

Caroline shakes her head in vehement denial, "Oh, no. She is careful to be discrete, when Bekah's in earshot. Likely because she knows that Rebekah may very well claw her pretty brown eyes out."

That pulls a smile from Klaus, and Caroline returns it tentatively.

Caroline bites her lip again, a tinge of nerves plain in her expression, "And since I have already failed at impressing you with my ability to be ladylike and reserved, may I say one more thing?"

"You may," Klaus replies, cautious but interested.

"You deserve better," Caroline says, serious and fervent. "Then Tatia Petrova's changeable heart. You and Elijah both. It's not fair, what she's doing. And it is not right."

Klaus knows that he should be defending Tatia, defending what he feels for her. But his mouth is dry, and the excuses stick in his throat.

He takes a few more bites of soup, before he pushes the bowl away. "I should be going. Thank you for dinner."

She smiles softly, and stands to see him to the door. Klaus steps outside, but feels compelled to turn back. He grabs her hand, and squeezes, trying to express his gratitude when he speaks, "Thank you. For your honesty." Caroline's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. Klaus leans in, before she can formulate a reply, brushes his lips against her cheek, taking an extra moment to enjoy the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her so near to him.

He pulls back, notes the stunned look on Caroline's face, her fingertips reaching up to touch the spot on her cheek where his mouth had just been. He's not sure what had possessed him, just knows that the time spent in Caroline's company has been enjoyable. Few people would think Klaus deserves better, than what he has. It warms him, that Caroline's one of them. His dark mood had all but evaporated and he has a sneaking suspicion that he'll be seeking her out again. That he won't be able to help himself.

"Goodnight, Caroline," Klaus murmurs.

She echoes him, quiet and maybe a bit dazed. He doesn't hear the door close, and when he looks back, at the edge of her property, he can see her standing there, the faint glow of firelight outlining her figure.

Klaus smiles to himself and takes his time, walking back to the village, lost in his own thoughts once again. Much different ones, this time. Of Caroline and her sharp tongue and vibrant eyes.

Of new discoveries and possibilities.


	27. December Never Felt So Wrong

**Notes: **My third, and final, klarolinesmutmas contribution!

**December Never Felt So Wrong**

**(Prompt from an Anon: "The first Chistmas since her mother died, Caroline decides to escape the blue of being home without family and take a trip to NOLA where Klaus eagerly invites her into his home and shows her how the southern city does the holidays. When she's still obviously feeling down, smutty comfort ensues. Could be canon, semi canon, or completely au as needed." Title from 'Winter Song' by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson. Smut.)**

She tenses, when the stool next to her is taken. The legs of the stool scrape loudly against the cheap tiles underfoot and everyone in the sparsely populated bar looks over, with varying degrees of interest. Caroline ducks her head, avoiding the curious eyes. She'd wanted to disappear, and had picked this place, outside of The French Quarter, to do so, while she tried to gather her thoughts.

New Orleans might be a party town, but at 11 AM on Christmas Eve the bar Caroline had wandered into was mostly empty. Two guys at the bar, a small group of middle aged women in the corner. A bartender, fussing with some paperwork, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.

And Caroline, who's now nursing a glass of wine at the previously unoccupied side of the bar, and wondering how exactly she'd gotten here.

She'd tried so hard, dug deep and pasted on smiles. Decorated and baked and hunted down the perfect gifts, for everyone on her list. Caroline had always loved Christmas, and she'd thought she could do it, thought she could fake it, until she made it, so to speak. She thought if she went through the motions, that things would just click into place, and she'd feel happy again, if only for a little while.

But everything was different this year. And nothing would ever be the same.

Elena was locked in a coffin somewhere, frozen in time. Bonnie, obsessed with freeing her, and with trying to stop Damon from going off the rails. Stefan had his hands full with that situation, and last she'd heard (via postcard) Tyler was somewhere on the west coast, learning to deal with being a werewolf again. Matt was trying so hard to be normal and Caroline didn't have the heart to mess that up for him.

And, worst of all, her mother was gone. And Caroline missed her.

It was a gnawing ache, and things, both big and little, made it worse, with every passing day. She missed the way her mom made cocoa, just right, on the stove. She missed her house, the decorations she'd grown up with, the secret nooks and crannies where her mother had always stashed Caroline's presents.

But it was all gone.

And as hard as Caroline tried to deny it, she couldn't escape it. She was cornered at the grocery store by her old math teacher, who wanted to know how she was coping. She'd driven by her old house, and the light display was a terrible, tacky, mess that Caroline would never have allowed. She tried to make her grandma's sugar cookies, but they just tasted wrong.

Anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness. It built and it built and it built.

And Caroline hadn't been able to take it.

Yesterday, finishing up wrapping gifts, Christmas carols playing softly in the background, she'd glanced out the window of her apartment, glimpsed perfect, fluffy snow falling over the town.

It had been like a snow globe, come to life, but all Caroline felt was numb.

She'd snapped, grabbed her car keys, and fled. No bag, no phone, she'd barely even paused for shoes.

She'd driven south until the snow stopped, then further, until patches of brown, mucky fields outnumbered the drifts.

She drove until her car was running on fumes, filled it up, and kept going.

Didn't really understand what she was doing, until she passed the sign that said 'Welcome to New Orleans' in the early hours of the morning.

Mentally berated herself for not taking that exit to Florida. She hadn't seen or heard from Klaus in almost a year, he'd kept his promise of time and distance. She wasn't sure if seeing him now, when she was kind of a mess, was a good idea.

But spending Christmas completely alone would be even worse than spending it in the town that no longer felt like home.

The person beside her doesn't say anything, and Caroline's grateful. She's a people person usually. But she's so not in the mood to hear someone else's tale of holiday woe.

A second later she registers the too slow lub-dub of a non-human heart. And then the scent of his skin hits her, familiar but distant, a memory she's tried to let go of.

She should have known Klaus would find her.

Caroline twists on her stool, but he's not looking at her. He's staring at the bartender, an annoyed expression on his face. The woman takes her time, wandering over, asks what she can get him, like it's the biggest imposition she's ever faced.

Klaus orders champagne.

She tries not to smile. "Still not our thing," Caroline tells him dryly.

Klaus grins, when he turns to her, "So you say, love."

They're silent, as they wait for the bottle, and Caroline's fingers tap nervously on the bar top. Klaus dismisses the bartender, and pops the cork himself, pouring two glasses and handing her one, "A toast," he says, tipping his glass towards her, "to Caroline Forbes showing up in my city. And people say that naughtiness is never rewarded this time of year."

Caroline rolls her eyes, fighting harder not to seem amused, "I'm pretty sure I could make an awesome Santa Klaus joke right now."

"I'd rather you didn't," he sniffs disdainfully. "I am older then that silly fairy tale, by several centuries, you know."

She'd never really thought about it before.

Caroline takes a sip, studies him over the rim of her glass, "So Christmas isn't really a thing you do then?"

Klaus shrugs, his eyes never leaving her face. "Perks of a long life, you pick and choose the things you carry with you. And there often wasn't the time to celebrate, in the past."

"So I'm not crashing anything, not taking you away from anyone?"

"Nothing of import, sweetheart. I promise you. But I'm curious, about what brings you here?"

Caroline swallows hard, past the lump that's sprung up in her throat. "My mom died. Cancer."

Klaus' eyes soften, but Caroline notes no surprise in his features. "I'm sorry to hear that. She loved you."

She clears her throat, blinks hard. "Yeah. Things were rough, for a while, after my dad left. But these last few years were really good. And I couldn't face Christmas in Mystic Falls without her. I felt like I was suffocating, you know? I just took off."

It means something, that she'd come here, Caroline knows. Something big. But it's not something that she can handle pondering right now.

Klaus, with his impeccable ability to read her, doesn't push. He slides off of his stool, and digs out his wallet. He throws some cash on the bar, and snatches up the bottle, before offering her his arm, staring at her pointedly until she takes it, "Now, it seems to me that a change of scenery is what you need, love. So how about I make good on my offer, and show you New Orleans?"

She feels lighter, as she hops off the stool, more relaxed then she's been in a long time, when she takes his arm, "I might have a list," Caroline confesses, "of things I want to see, just so you know."

"I'd expect nothing less. But I do wonder when you had time to make this list? I was under the impression this trip was spur of the moment."

He sounds far too knowing, far too smug. Caroline hates that her steps falter, hates the heat she feels creeping up her neck. She tosses her hair back, and stares straight ahead, "It's not a new list," she admits.

She won't admit that it's long. That she'd started it after listening to his voicemail, that she goes back and adds things, when she needs a distraction.

That she's looked into Tulane and Loyola and UNO and idly priced out apartments.

It was just curiosity, Caroline told herself. She'd always wanted to leave small town life behind, always wanted to try her luck in a city. New Orleans was as good as any.

And it's not like she'd _done_ anything about it.

Until now.

"Well, we'll see what things we can cross off, hmm? I reserve the right to veto anything too abhorrently touristy."

Caroline snorts, knocks her elbow into his side, "Don't be a snob, Klaus."

And really, who's he fooling? Caroline's ninety percent certain that anywhere she really wants to go, anything she really wants to do, Klaus will tag along. He maybe won't be happy about it, and he'll likely complain. But he'll be there.

It's comforting, right now. Because there's no one else in her life that she could say the same about, with the same amount of confidence.

Probably why she'd driven all the way here, without consciously allowing herself to decide to do so.

Klaus is in the middle of a speech about how he built this city, ('So it's not snobbery, love, simply experience and impeccable taste…') but Caroline finds herself not paying attention to the words, as he leads her outside, just savoring the sound of his voice, as it weaves around her, inhaling the air – different from Mystic Falls, not as chilled or fresh – and eyeing the new sights with interest.

Klaus offers her the bottle, and Caroline takes a sip, before she hands it back, her hand still snug in the crook of his arm. He pauses, on a corner, waits for him to glance at him in question, "What's first on that list of yours, Caroline?"

"Well," Caroline says slowly, "Gonna have to go with food. I haven't eaten in like sixteen hours so take me to the beignets."

Klaus makes a turns towards the right, and begins walking, "I know just where to go."

"Great! And thanks, Klaus," Caroline says, squeezing his arm, trying to show her gratitude, "for doing this."

Klaus nods, the dimple in his cheek deepening when he smiles, "Not necessary, love. But you're welcome. And I want you to know that you're _always_ welcome."

She knew that, deep down. And she also knew she'd come to the right place.

She's giggling, by the time they cross the threshold of Klaus' front door, and she's not even drunk. The single bottle of champagne had been finished hours ago, and she'd sampled enough Cajun food to be really, really glad that she didn't need to worry about counting calories anymore.

She'd ordered one Hurricane, just to try it, but the rum was potent, so she refused a second. Intoxication wasn't the goal, and if she'd learned anything from the amount of time she'd been forced to endure Damon Salvatore it was that liquor wasn't the best coping mechanism, even if her liver would always heal itself.

Klaus has been telling her stories, not skimping on the embarrassing ones (and oh, the blackmail material she now has on Rebekah!), had coaxed smiles and eventually laughs from Caroline. She's shared her own, and somehow it's less painful, to talk of her parents and Christmas celebrations with distance between her and Mystic Falls. Klaus has done what Caroline thought impossible, completely taken her mind off things. She doesn't feel empty, or lonely or directionless.

He'd dismissed her plans to find a hotel, pointing out that it would be difficult, this time of year ('Unless you'd like to stay in some by the hour hovel, that is'), and that he had plenty of guest bedrooms, especially considering that both Rebekah and Elijah had chosen to live outside the large, gated mansion Klaus occupied.

She'd ribbed him about personal growth, and he'd merely rolled his eyes, affecting a long suffering air. Confessed that he had guards stationed near their homes.

Caroline supposed there was only so much change one could expect from a man who'd spent a thousand years dodging his psycho dad's attempts on his life.

Klaus motions for her to follow him upstairs, flicking on lights as he goes, and leads her to a room on the third floor. She spies a phone on the side table, and lets out a groan. He looks at her, concern flitting across his face, "I need to call Bonnie. Let her know I'm okay."

He nods in understanding, taking a step back, "Ah. I'll leave you to that, then. My room's across the hall. Knock when you're done, and I'll scrounge you up something for you to sleep in."

Caroline offers him a grateful smile, sinking down on the side of the bed. She picks up the phone, as Klaus closes the door behind him, and dials quickly. This is definitely a rip the band aid clean off kind of situation.

Bonnie answers on the third ring, voice wary, "Hello?"

"Hey, Bon," Caroline greets, trying to sound perky. "Merry Christmas!"

Bonnie's not having it, and her reply is scolding, "You scared the crap out of me, Caroline."

Caroline winces, "Yeah. Sorry about that. I should have grabbed my phone."

"I called you six times, left like twenty texts. Then Damon reminded me I was a witch."

She hadn't decided if she was going to be completely honest about where she was, but it sounded like a locator spell had taken the lying option away.

"Oh. Well, New Orleans is really nice, FYI. All sorts of cool witchy stuff. You should totally check it out sometime."

"What are you doing, Caroline?" Bonnie asks. Her tone's both gentle and bewildered, but at least she doesn't sound pissed.

Caroline flops back on the bed, letting out a long huff of air, "Honestly? I have no idea. I couldn't be in Mystic Falls anymore, Bonnie. It was like one of those tiny rooms in movies where the walls close in and crush you. But I needed something… familiar, I guess."

"So… Klaus?" Bonnie asks, skeptically, making a valiant attempt at neutrality that Caroline appreciates. "You went to Klaus? What about Steven? Or one of your Aunts?"

Caroline let out a humorless laugh, "So they can ask me about how I'm dealing with my loss? Or about college, and the future I'm preparing for? The one I'll only get for a couple of years, tops, because my face will always be seventeen? I can't pretend to be okay and pretend to be human at the same time."

Bonnie's silent, for a long time, and Caroline listens to her breathing on the other end, "I don't think I've noticed that you were pretending. And I'm sorry."

Ugh. Caroline had thought she was over crying, but tears well up, once again. "You have a lot on your plate, Bonnie. You don't need to worry about me."

"I do, though. Tell me you're safe?"

"Completely," Caroline assures Bonnie. "Currently lying on the comfiest bed ever."

"Alone?" Bonnie asks, the question teasing and innuendo laden.

Caroline makes a strangled noise, part shocked squeal, part laugh, "Yes, alone. Geez."

"Just thought I'd check," Bonnie replies breezily. "I don't need the details, if that changes, by the way. But I hope you have a good Christmas, Caroline."

"Thank you. Merry Christmas, Bon. Love you."

"Love you too. When will you be back?" Bonnie asks, clearly relieved to steer the conversation away from Klaus.

Caroline hesitates, "I don't know. I didn't plan any of this. A couple of days? Probably."

"Well, I have this number now. If you don't call me, I'll call you. And if you don't answer I might have to come check out the witchy side of NOLA."

Caroline shakes her head, and amused smile crossing her lips at the implied threat there. "Gotcha. I will call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Night, Care."

"Goodnight, Bonnie."

Caroline sets the phone back in the cradle, kind of amazed by how well that had gone. She'd expected a lecture, recriminations, a list of every wrong Klaus had ever perpetuated.

It's not like she's forgotten them, but she's got wrongs of her own, steadily piling up. And with only a couple of years of vampirism under her belt. She's afraid to think about what that list will look like if she makes it to a century, let alone a millennium.

But those thoughts are too dark after a good day.

Caroline kicks off her shoes and pads across the room. She lets herself out, crosses the hall and taps lightly on Klaus' door. His, "Come in," is immediate, and when she pokes her head in he's on a couch in a little sitting area, dressed for bed with his bare feet propped up on a coffee table. He tosses a book aside, and waves her in.

She enters slowly, very aware, Bonnie's insinuations ringing in her mind, that she's walking into Klaus' bedroom. She tries not to stare at him, but she's definitely filing this particular version of Klaus away for later contemplation. "I don't think I've ever seen your arms before," she blurts out, eyeing the black tank and sweatpants he's wearing.

Klaus quirks an amused brow as he stands, "Now, love, that's not strictly true. I know you've not forgotten our little interlude in the woods. You saw a lot more than just my arms. I put in a great deal of effort, to ensure it would be memorable. And considering the number of times you came for me I can't see how it wouldn't have been."

Caroline's eyes widen, and her voice gets higher when she sputters, "I just meant… layers. Jackets. Henley's!"

Klaus laughs, as he brushes past her, brushing his arm against hers in a way that has to be on purpose, given the expansive square footage of the room. "Speaking of," he says, picking up a folded pile of clothes, "I'm sure Rebekah has things lying around that would fit you better, but she gets a bit cranky when people touch her things so mine will have to suffice."

Caroline believed that. And she'd rather not get her heart ripped out, for deigning to touch something of Rebekah's. "This is fine, thanks again," she takes the bundle from his hands, preparing to turn around and go back to the guest room, when Klaus hand on her arms stop her, he leans in, brushes a kiss across her cheek, softly inhaling in a way that makes her shiver, before he pulls away, "Goodnight, Caroline," he murmurs, his rough palm gliding down her skin.

And maybe taking this trip on a whim has permanently screwed with her impulse control, but Caroline makes another split second decision. "Oh, screw it," she mutters, dropping the clothes to the floor and pressing her body up against Klaus'.

Today's the best day she's had in months, and she doesn't want it to end just yet.

Her hands land on his shoulders, one sliding into his hair as she presses her mouth to his. Klaus stumbles back a half step, before he pushes forward, meeting her kiss without hesitation, his hands pulling her into him harder.

Caroline scrapes her teeth over his bottom lip, sucks until he opens with a moan, rising to her toes to take the kiss deeper.

She rips his shirt off, because it's only fair. A laugh bubbles out at the affronted expression he makes when he pulls back. Klaus eyes flare, a ring of gold brightening his iris,' and Caroline is soon flat on her back in his bed.

And she'd lied earlier, because this one is even nicer than the one in the guest room.

It's an idle thought, quickly chased away as Klaus' mouth finds her neck, zoning in on the sensitive areas he'd mapped out that day in the woods, until she's got a leg hooked around his hip and her head thrown back in a silent plea for more.

She feels him smile against her skin, and he obliges, his lips drag down the line of her sternum even as his hands push her shirt up. He removes it carefully, and painfully slowly, and Caroline assumes it's payback for the way she'd ripped his.

She arches up, pressing her chest into his, and undoes the clasp on her bra herself, flinging it aside and pulling him down, taking his mouth in a demanding kiss.

Caroline flips them, while he's distracted, though she knows it's only because he'd allowed it. Klaus grabs her hips, and pulls her up higher, sitting up so he can recline against the headboard. He licks his lips, his eyes wandering down her body appreciatively, lingering on her breasts, and her thighs below where her skirt has been hitched up. "So much lovelier than in my memories," he muses, resting a hand on her stomach.

She places hers over top, encourages it to slide up. She wants him to touch more of her, her skin prickling in anticipation. Caroline tips her head back when he cups her breast, thumb rubbing over the nipple. She lets out a whimper, feeling the heat of his mouth on the other, grinding down against his abdomen.

She's not thinking, and it's amazing.

Klaus' free hand grasps her ass, helping her to rock against him, but it's more frustrating than anything. She can't get any real friction where she wants it. Caroline digs her nails into his shoulders, leaning back, "Too many clothes," she gasps, reaching behind her for his waistband.

Klaus smirks up at her, a mischievous light in his eyes. She's on her back again before she can blink, and Klaus has ripped off her underwear and his head is between her thighs, "Not what I meant… oh!"

He doesn't tease her, there's none of the slow, tortuous buildup he'd treated her to that time in the woods. He licks her clit, hooks two fingers inside of her clenching body. It's ridiculously fast, her head thrashing on the pillow as she fists the sheets, her thighs shaking as he works her up higher, little appreciative murmurs about how good she tastes and how gorgeous she looks, spread out on his bed, encouraging the coil of arousal.

She lets go with a cry, her hips arching up against his mouth. She tugs at his hair, still quivering, the only word in her brain is more. More of him, more of this feeling. She pulls harder, when he seems to want to take his sweet time. Klaus lets out a groan, looking up to meet her eyes. Caroline brings her knees up, "Inside me," she demands, her voice hoarse. "Now."

Once again, Klaus flips them. Caroline sits up and shakes her hair out of her face, pinning him with an annoyed look, "You know, I am really getting tired of you interrupting me."

"You'll forgive me, love. I'm sure of it," Klaus rasps. He brings his knees up behind her and tilts her hips, lifting her and positioning her over his cock as he kicks his pants away. "Lean back," he tells her, eyes hot and coaxing. "And play with your nipples for me."

The dirty request sends another stab of want through her and Caroline moans, letting his legs support her weight and bringing her hands up to her breasts. He thrusts up, and pulls her down, sheathing himself inside of her in one delicious movement, and Caroline's eyes slam shut, a gasp leaving her lips.

Caroline rolls her hips, tries to move, but he won't let her. Her eyes crack open, peeved. "Better," Klaus murmurs, in satisfaction. "I want you to look at me, Caroline." One of his hands dips lower, curving over her thigh until his thumb parts her folds, seeking out her clit. He rubs, eyes on her face, on the flutter of her eyelashes.

She doesn't close them, however, holds his gaze, as her skin grows hot to the touch, the muscles in her stomach pulled taut. She's just about to beg, needs him to move, her fingers rolling her nipples roughly in search of something, when Klaus' grip relaxes, and he encourages her to slide back, and let herself fall down. She looks down, to where they're connected, watching him move inside of her, a strangled whimper escaping as she speeds up.

Klaus sits up abruptly, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting his forehead on her shoulder. The noises he makes, low and needy, his hands on her back, frantic, like he can't get enough of her skin, are everything she'd remembered, and more.

It's a heady feeling, to be wanted like that. Intoxicating.

Klaus' hand slips between them, finding the bundle of nerves that will send her reeling. A few circles, one firm pinch and Caroline's shaking against Klaus, his name on her lips as she orgasms, limbs clutching her to him tightly. He follows with a groan, his hips jerking underneath her.

She's still panting, her heartbeat galloping, when Klaus falls back against his pillows, tugging her down with him, a hand burying itself in the hair at the back of her neck.

She thinks about rolling off of him, about retreating to the guestroom. A bed, Klaus' bed, is different than the woods, when they had both known that time was short.

But she finds she doesn't want to leave. She feels good, where she is, almost wants to purr, at the gentle tugging of his fingers in her hair.

And she's not the least bit tired, and from the way Klaus' cock is twitching against her thigh, she doesn't think he is either.

Caroline lifts her head, folds her arm underneath her so she can look at him, take in the soft content expression that she knows he doesn't wear often. "I'm glad I came here," she tells him, and she means it. "I'm almost sorry it took me so long."

Klaus smiles, his fingertips trailing lightly down her spine, tracing the dips reverently, "I said a year, or a century, love. So I can't be upset that it was only a year."

She narrows her eyes at him playfully, "No one likes a know-it-all, Klaus."

"I've lived a millennium. If anyone knows it all, it's me, don't you think?"

Instead of answering she traces the tattoo on his shoulder, dropping her mouth after a moment and doing it again, with her tongue. She feels more than hears the harsh breath in Klaus takes, when she scrapes her teeth over the curve of his neck.

Caroline thinks she'll stay the couple days she mentioned to Bonnie. Maybe a week or two. Until she's stored up enough of this feeling, enough good to face what's left of her life back in Mystic Falls.


	28. New Year's Drabbles

**Notes: **Annoyingly, my New Year started with me glued to my couch, with a persistent cold. People on Tumblr were kind enough to send me drabble prompts, to entertain me. And that's where these come from. Enjoy, and comments are always appreciated!

**No Distance**

**(Prompt from klarolineforevermine: ****klaroline + "We knew each other when we were like 5 years old because our moms are friends and we haven't seen each other since but now your family is moving back and you're a lot hotter than you were when you were a little kid" AU :) Title from 'The New Year' by Death Cab For Cutie. Smut).**

When her buzzer rings Caroline, just for a second, seriously considers not answering it. A last minute obligation houseguest, foisted upon her by her mother, was kind of cramping her New Year's style.

Which was selecting a reasonably cute acquaintance from tonight's party to go home with, assuming one expressed an interest. As a cleanse, of sorts. Because Caroline really needed it.

It was like she was cursed, in the romantic department, lately.

Her last relationship had ended over the summer, and getting back on the horse hadn't been easy. Caroline had been on a string of dates, verging from bad to horrific, and none of them had resulted in a second. It's been more than six months since she'd had sex with something that wasn't rechargeable. She figured a no strings attached one off was the way to go. Break the cycle, break the pattern, and she'd hopefully be able to find someone she could stand for more than one dinner.

That had been the plan.

If only she hadn't answered her mother's call that afternoon.

Where Liz Forbes had asked her daughter for a favor.

Caroline had kind of tuned out the explanation for why Klaus Mikaelson was stranded in Chicago, sensing right away that her mom had been working up to something in relaying the sob story. Something about a missed connection, and overbooking, and how it was a holiday, so any and all decent hotel rooms were completely booked. 'But your new apartment's a two bedroom, isn't it, dear?' Liz had finished sweetly.

It was, and her mom totally knew it, having been the first occupant of said guest room, over Thanksgiving weekend last month.

And now Caroline's second ever guest was at the door, some guy she didn't even know. Their mom's went way back, had been roommates in college, and had kept in touch. Caroline vaguely remembers Esther Mikaelson as being aloof and intimidatingly glamourous, to her five year old self. She'd had a baby girl on her hip, had been constantly after another toddler, a boy with messy brown hair and a knack for slipping away.

Caroline remembers having been left to play with Klaus, who'd been just a year or so older than she, while the two older boys occupied themselves.

She can't quite picture what he'd looked like, after all this time, but she distinctly remembers how he'd laughed uproariously at her indignant shrieking, after he'd hidden frogs in her rain boots.

Many frogs. Jumpy, slimy, icky frogs.

And fine, he'd likely matured since then. But was it any wonder Caroline wasn't filled with joy at the thought of him in her home?

She'd bet that boys who put frogs in girl's rain boots totally grew up to be creeps who snooped in lingerie drawers.

The buzzer sounds again, and Caroline sighs, and goes over to the intercom panel, "Yes?" she asks.

"Caroline?" a crackly, accented, voice sounds through the small speaker. "It's Klaus Mikaelson. I believe you were expecting me?"

"Come on up," Caroline replies, trying not to sound unwelcoming. Probably failing, but whatever. At least she was letting him in.

She presses the button, to allow him in through the lobby door, and takes a quick glance around her apartment. Everything's in place, not that she expected differently, and a few minutes later there's a soft knocking at her door.

She pastes on a smile, and throws it open. Her smile fades, when she sees the man on the other side. It's possible she gapes a little.

Because Klaus Mikaelson is really freaking attractive.

His hair's dark blonde, curling softly, and just the right amount of stubble graces a firm jaw. He's pink cheeked from the cold, wearing a well-fitting navy pea coat that does really great things for his blue eyes.

His lips curl into a smirk, and that snaps her out of her stupor. But not before a brief, hot, image of biting down on the lower one flashes through Caroline's mind.

And yeah, it really had been way too long since she'd had sex, if fantasies were _that_ close to the surface.

"Hi! Sorry, come in," she gestures for Klaus to enter, smiling brightly, hoping to gloss over the leering she'd done. "I'm Caroline. It's been a really long time!"

"More than twenty years," he murmurs, entering and pulling a suitcase in behind them. "You've grown up to be incredibly beautiful," he continues, his eyes admiring.

Caroline feels her face heat, and she stutters a thank you, and offers to take his coat.

He grins at her, "You're very welcome, love. Thank you for allowing me into your home, on such short notice. I did not relish the idea of camping out at the airport."

Charming, polite and super-hot? She can't believe her mom has never thought to mention this guy to Caroline before.

His arrival is certainly not the total night ruiner Caroline had been dreading.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, after stowing his outerwear. "I made lasagna, since ordering in is a nightmare tonight, and I was planning on going to a party. You're welcome to come with, if you'd like? I'm sure my friend Bonnie won't mind."

"Lasagna is fine. And I'd love to accompany you this evening, Caroline, if you're sure I won't be intruding?"

"Nah," Caroline assures him. "Bonnie just moved in with her boyfriend so it'll be a weird mix of her friends and his friends. You'll slot right in."

He nods in acceptance, and Caroline tips her head in the direction of the bedrooms, "I'll show you where you can put your stuff. I'm going to grab a quick shower, and the food should be ready when I get out. Is that okay?"

"Of course. Don't feel like you need to entertain me, sweetheart."

She honestly wouldn't mind, because the ideas she has, about entertaining him, are decidedly dirty, and would be just as fun for her as they would be for him, Caroline knows.

She turns at the door to the guestroom, just in time to catch his eyes darting upwards. Caroline raises an eyebrow but he doesn't seem the least bit ashamed to have been caught checking her out. He reaches past her, his fingertips skimming her hip, before he grasps the doorknob, and his body presses into hers, just for a moment, when he pushes the door open.

She kind of wishes he'd just pinned her to it.

It's been a hell of a dry spell, after all, and he smells _really_ good.

But Klaus slips past her, drops his bag next to the bed. Caroline lingers in the doorway, watching him sit on the mattress, and lean back on his hands, "I'll see you in a bit," she tells him, knowing she has to retreat.

"I look forward to it," Klaus murmurs, as she exits.

The hair flip and extra sway to her hips as she leaves the room are _totally_ necessary.

* * *

"Where did you find that one?" Bonnie asks, sotto voce by the drinks table, eyes on Klaus and Enzo who seem to be talking amiably across the room.

"He literally just showed up at my door," Caroline tells her. She laughs when Bonnie raises her eyebrows skeptically. "Seriously! My mom knows his mom and he got stuck here. He apparently doesn't know anyone in this city so my mom begged me to let him crash. Figured he probably wasn't a serial killer, if she was vouching for him."

"So your mom hand delivered you a hot guy as a New Year's date? Nice."

Caroline rolls her eyes, and hip checks Bonnie lightly, "It's not a date. I wasn't just going to leave him in my apartment, Bon. That'd have been rude."

"Please. I saw his face when you took off your coat. That is a date dress, Caroline Forbes."

Caroline can't deny it. She might have changed her wardrobe plans last minute. The little black dress she's wearing is maybe a little much for a casual party at a friend's place, is definitely shorter and sleeker then the one she'd originally picked out.

And yes, it was for Klaus' benefit. He'd flirted, and been ridiculously charming, over dinner. He'd offered to help with dishes, and stood a little too close, so she could feel the heat of him through the thin t-shirt she'd been wearing.

She'd had to do something to level the playing field.

"It's not a date," Caroline insists. "He doesn't even live here."

"Where does he live?"

Caroline thinks about it, realizes she hasn't the faintest idea. "No clue. Further evidence that this isn't a date. If I were dating the guy, I'd know where he lived, wouldn't I?"

"Ooh, someone is protesting awfully hard," Bonnie teases.

"Shut up," Caroline grumbles. But Klaus looks up, catches her eye, and she finds herself smiling at him. He says something to Enzo, and begins making his way across the room.

"I will bet you twenty bucks he has his tongue in your mouth at midnight," Bonnie whispers, as Klaus nears.

Caroline doesn't reply. She's not one to take a losing bet.

* * *

She feels someone next to her, when the countdown starts, an arm pressing against hers, when people shout 'Ten!' Doesn't even need to look to know it's Klaus.

Caroline ducks her head, lets her hair hide her face, allows herself a quick, giddy grin.

At 'Five!' he tucks her hair behind her ear, running his fingertip along the shell, until she looks up and catches his eyes. His hand slides behind her neck, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, a question in the way he's looking at her.

Caroline takes a step forward, rests her hands lightly on his chest, tips her head to the side, as he leans in.

Hopes that's enough of an answer.

His lips brush hers, at 'One!' and Caroline barely hears the chorus of 'Happy New Years!' that ring out around them, because she surges forward, taking the gentle, tentative start of a kiss somewhere new.

And Klaus doesn't mind following her, opening his mouth wider at her onslaught, a tiny moan rumbling through him as she nibbles on his lip, just like in her fantasies. His hands wander down her back, as their mouths meet frantically, pressing her closer, tracing any bare skin he finds greedily.

She pulls back when she needs to breathe, but stays close, resting her forehead against his for a moment, feeling unsteady on her feet. When she opens her eyes he's staring back at her, eyes burning and _wanting_. Caroline rasps out, "My place?" before she even thinks about it.

She can't remember the last time she felt like this, the last time her skin prickled with need, and all she could think about was a specific pair of hands on it.

He kisses her again, buries his hand in her hair and tips her head where he wants it, tongue teasing hers until she's got her hands fisted in his shirt, only the fact that they're technically in public stopping her from siding her hands under it.

"You're place," Klaus agrees quietly, when he's thoroughly muddled her brain.

Caroline doesn't even notice the smug, knowing expression on Bonnie's face as they scramble out of the apartment, coats only half on.

* * *

They never bother to do them up entirely, hands wandering in the back of the cab, to the driver's very vocal disgust and displeasure.

Caroline can't bring herself to listen to his complaints, not when Klaus' lips are finding the sensitive spots on her neck, when Klaus' fingers are dipping just under the hem of her skirt, brushing tauntingly against her inner thighs.

They come to a stop in front of her building and Klaus hands cash to the driver, while she's still fumbling with her purse, climbing out and offering her a hand to help her out.

The cab peels away, as soon as they're out, and Klaus wraps an arm around her back, tugging her towards the front door. Caroline gropes for her keys, as he steps behind her, and the scrape of his stubble on her shoulder, is really, really distracting.

She leans back against him, head tipping to the side. He laughs, and she feels it rumble through him where they're pressed together, "The door, love. Unless you're really into exhibitionism."

She considers it, for a teeny, tiny moment, feeling his hand hot on her stomach through the material of her dress, and his trapped cock pressing against her.

But no, she kind of likes this building, and it would be a shame if she had to move out because one of her neighbors caught her in a compromising positon.

She shrugs her shoulder, nudging Klaus away, and focusing on her clutch. She unearths her key ring with a crow of triumph, quickly unlocking the door and hurrying to the elevator, casting a glance over her shoulder to see Klaus a few steps behind her.

They say nothing, as they wait for the elevator, and Caroline cheers internally, when it opens to reveal an empty car.

She doesn't waste time, just shoves him against the wall, slipping her thigh in between his, to rub up against his cock, straining behind his jeans. Klaus groans, his head tipping back against the wall, and Caroline runs her nose up the line of his throat, bites down on his earlobe before she murmurs, "What was that about exhibitionism, Klaus?"

He tries to flip them, but she resists, pressing her hips harder into his, one of her hands creeping up the front of his shirt, "Nuh-uh," she scolds. "You're the guest. Pretty sure that means I have to do _all_ the work."

His eyes flare, when she teases his stomach with her nails, the muscles contracting underneath her touch. She's startled, by the door opening, and Klaus takes advantage, swooping down and kissing her. His hand cups her shoulder, thumb slipping the strap of her dress off, before tracing down and delving into the cup of her bra.

She moans into his mouth, when he rubs over the hard peak of her nipple, pressing her flesh more firmly into his hand. Klaus smiles, against her lips, pulling back enough to say, "Surely, as an uninvited guest, I'd be expected to pitch in? I don't mind. Truly."

The doors drift close, because of their lack of action, and Caroline stumbles over to the panel, to slap the door open button, "Let's negotiate. Inside my apartment."

Klaus doesn't argue, following her down the hall, after she's pulled her coat up enough to be decent.

And then she can't find it in herself to complain, when his version of 'work' apparently involves dropping to his knees, and hitching her thigh over his shoulder, against her front door, shoving her panties aside and applying his tongue to where she's dripping.

And Klaus doesn't mind, when she returns the favor, his hands in her hair, garbled pleas and words of praise spilling from him, as he sprawls across her bed, as she swallows around his length.

When he's finally inside her, he watches her face raptly. He's got her hands pinned under his, next to her head, his cock moving inside of her tortuously slowly. Her thighs are clamped around his flanks as she writhes underneath him, mindless with pleasure, his name tumbling breathlessly from her lips.

Caroline realizes she has no idea who's winning their little disagreement about manners.

And she doesn't really care.

* * *

Caroline wakes slowly, drowsy and content, to light kisses being brushed across her shoulders, a hand low on her hip. She stretches her arms above her head, buries her face into her pillow. The hand curves down, sneaking between her body and her bed.

She parts her thighs, giving him more room.

"Don't you have a plane to catch?" she mumbles.

"I have at least an hour before I have to leave," Klaus replies, his voice warm and sleep-gravelly, resting on his side, hand continuing its descent. "And I think you should agree to have dinner with me," he continues conversationally, "when I get back."

Caroline's eyes pop open in surprise, and she turns to look at him, "Back? What do you mean back?"

"I was here for a final job interview. They implied that I got it. So I'll be moving here, in a month or so."

Caroline freezes, because she hadn't known that, and she's not sure how she feels about it.

Klaus raises an eyebrow, pausing just before his fingertips part her folds. Caroline's helpless to contain her body's squirming, at the interruption. "Did you want this to be a one night stand, love? Think we'd go our separate ways, and never see one another again?"

She kind of had, but when he begins toying with her clit, Caroline can't think of why that was.

"It can be," Klaus murmurs, against the skin of her back. Caroline hitches a knee to the side, and he obligingly curls two fingers inside of her, and her breathing picks up, as she grinds against his hand, hers clutching the pillow under her head. "But I think that would be a shame. I enjoy you, Caroline. And I think you've enjoyed me too, haven't you?"

She nods, and his fingers pick up speed, her back arching to take more, her muscles tightening in anticipation of release. It never comes, because Klaus stills, just before she gets there. "So, dinner?" he asks innocently, as if his fingers weren't currently buried inside of her, as if she wasn't on the brink of coming apart around them.

Caroline makes an annoyed noise, almost a whine, "You seriously need to know this right now?" she asks, struggling to keep her voice even.

His fingers rub a spot inside of her that has her cursing, muffling the sounds in the cotton underneath her head. Then he's withdrawing altogether, shoving one of the pillows under her hips, and kneeling behind her, before she can protest.

Klaus' hands glide up her spine, and he settles himself against her, holding his weight on his elbows. Caroline tips her hips back, letting out a sigh as his cock slides into her. "You feel incredible, love," Klaus murmurs, tone rough, stilling once he's all the way in, "And I suppose I can wait, for your answer. Convince you that you want to say yes."

Caroline rolls her hips, a silent demand that he move, half expecting him to draw it out. But he sets a firm pace, that has her gasping, and climbing quickly. When his hand tunnels under her to circle her clit, she almost doesn't need it, but the extra stimulation sends her reeling, calling his name.

He follows soon afterwards, collapsing against her back, panting harshly.

He rolls off of her, but not away, a warm, solid presence at her side, his hands smoothing over the skin that he can reach.

It's nice, and she wants him to keep doing it. And not just right now.

Caroline turns onto her side, facing him, and he traces the dip of her waist with a gentle fingers, and careful eyes. Caroline clears her throat, and he looks at her questioningly, "Yes," she says simply, watches his eyes light up and a dimple carve its way into his cheek when he smiles.

He rolls her onto her back, his lips dropping to her throat, as her hand tangles in his hair. She had a sneaking suspicion that he might just miss his flight again,

She'd agreed to dinner because he'd been right, she did enjoy him, and not just the sex part. Because maybe last night had been a date, and maybe Caroline's already breaking the cycle.

She just hopes the second date goes as well.

**Something Dumb to Do**

**(Prompt from howeverlongs: ****KC+ "i was deliberately not invited to this wedding so im crashing it anyways, even if that means the angry hot maid of honor is going to murder me." Title from 'Marry You' by Bruno Mars. Rated K+).**

Klaus slips into the chapel as unobtrusively as possible, taking a seat near the back. He's strategic about it, picking a spot behind a woman in a frankly ridiculous hat, hoping that it'll obscure him from the view of the groom, and the groomsmen, who are lined up next to the alter.

Stefan looks nervous, but thrilled in that besotted way he has. Damon just looks drunk.

About what he'd expected, and luckily neither had glanced his way yet.

Because Klaus technically wasn't supposed to be here.

He'd been disinvited, after he'd gotten a tiny bit too blunt in stating some opinions he'd been holding back, after getting spectacularly wasted during Stefan's stag weekend in Las Vegas.

But honestly, was one not supposed to point out that the groom's brother was in love with the bride to be? And that the bride to be truly wasn't much of a catch, as fickle and self-absorbed as she was?

Apparently not, as Klaus had been informed that he was no longer be welcome at today's festivities.

A woman takes a seat at the piano that's tucked into an alcove, and the door at the back opens as the first notes ring out. The audience in the pews rise, and Klaus realizes the flaw in his plan.

Elena's cousin Katherine is the first out, and she smirks when she sees him.

But then she'd also found his drunken confession hilarious, he'd been told. Had sent him a congratulatory text message, for 'Actually having the stones to say what we're all thinking.'

Followed by several less complimentary ones, alluding to his frequent failures with a certain blonde maid of honor.

Klaus shifts backward, tries to slouch down, but the elderly man beside him is several inches too short to be any decent sort of camouflage.

Bonnie's out next, and she sort of grimaces, when she catches sight of him, but quickly smooths the expression, facing forward and continuing down the aisle.

She'd never much liked him. Why that is, Klaus cannot fathom.

He holds his breath, knowing that Caroline will be out next, and that it's only the two hundred people cluttering up the church that will keep her from attempting to strangle him.

She'd been most displeased by his outburst, and that was the thing that Klaus was most regretful of. She'd been the one to show up at his apartment, the one to inform him that he wasn't welcome at Stefan and Elena's wedding. And the look of disappointment on her face, the cold way she'd spoken to him, was the thing that had Klaus wishing he'd not imbibed quite so heavily.

He's rather enjoyed getting to know Caroline, in the months leading up to the wedding. Klaus had been roped into many of the duties that should have technically fallen on Damon, who held the position of best man. But since intoxicated was the man's default setting, and Caroline couldn't stand him, even when he was stone cold sober, Damon was really more of a figurehead.

Klaus had been highly resentful, in the beginning, but he'd let that go, upon spending more time with Caroline.

He hadn't known her very well before. Caroline had only recently moved to the city, having attended university on the other side of the country. She'd gotten a job with a network in Chicago, and folded right back into her childhood circle of friends.

Klaus had met Stefan at school, forced together as roommates freshmen year they'd managed to make the best of it, and had voluntarily moved into an off campus apartment together for the next three years.

Caroline had visited a few times, and Klaus had met her in passing, enjoyed her forthrightness, and her penchant for wearing things that revealed her long legs. He'd never made a move, sensing that she wasn't really the one night stand type, and that's mostly all he'd been interested in at school.

Years later, as an adult, he still found her intriguing, still found his eyes lingering on her whenever they were in the same room.

Klaus had resolved to do something about it, and the wedding preparations had provided a golden opportunity.

Until he'd mucked that all up.

Caroline's smiling, when she steps onto the runner, radiant and lovely, despite the fact that the dress she's wearing is cut too high at the throat, and an unflattering shade of lavender.

He's not certain if Elena's just tragically inept at that sort of thing, or just the petty sort to sneakily ensure that no one can outshine her on her wedding day by selecting a deliberately terrible dress. Klaus would bet on the latter, if he'd had to.

Her smile dims, just for a moment, as she sees him, but she pointedly looks away, towards the other side of the aisle.

She's slightly too stiff, her spine stubbornly straight, as she walks towards the front of the church. Klaus keeps his eyes on her, even as everyone else's swing towards the flower girl, and then to the bride.

She's careful not to glance in his direction, for quite some time, until Elena's at the front of the church, on her brother's arm. And then Caroline's eyes dart towards Klaus. They widen in surprise, at finding his focused on her.

Klaus has no idea why she should be. For all that Elena Gilbert is beautiful, he's never found her interesting. He's expressed that, during his drunken ramblings, and he'd been quite forward, with his intentions towards Caroline.

She'd scoffed at first, told him she wasn't interested in being another notch on his bedpost. But Klaus is quite certain she was coming around, if the way she'd begun to flirt back, the way she'd leaned into the polite touches that Klaus had begun to allow to linger.

He's certain she'd have said yes, if he'd have asked her to dinner. Is planning on convincing her that she still should.

He's wearing the suit that she'd picked out, though he'd subbed out the lavender shirt and tie that matches the one the groomsmen are wearing. He'd not been oblivious to the appreciative glint in her eye, the way she'd bitten her lip, at his final fitting.

Her eyes narrow, a warning in them clear, just before she breaks eye contact.

'Do not make a scene,' is what Klaus believes she's saying. Plus about a half dozen inventive threats to his person, and his manhood, he imagines.

Caroline Forbes was surprisingly vicious, behind the sunny exterior.

He keeps watching her, as the officiant begins to speak, but she doesn't glance his way again.

But that's fine, because Klaus has a plan. He'll apologize to Stefan, will manage to appear contrite, and they'll allow him to stay, will enjoy seeming benevolent and forgiving, in front of all of their family and friends. He'll get Caroline to dance with him. She likes it, and he's quite certain her anger will be easier to soothe, when she's pressed up against him.

It won't be easy, but Klaus does enjoy a challenge, and verbally sparring with Caroline has one of his very favorite pastimes, these last few months.

He looks forward to doing it often, in the future. Can't wait until the day when he can end their disagreements more pleasurably, until he can kiss her until she forgets why she's mad at him.

Or until she doesn't, but they work their anger out more productively, in bed or against any other convenient flat surface.

Klaus is confident that it's only a matter of time.

**Like The Beginning**

**(Inspired by a Tumblr post of New Year's wishes one of which was, "Also, I hope you get astonishing dick in 2016." Title from 'Barely Legal' by The Strokes. Rated T).**

Klaus comes home to chaos, in the wee hours of January 1st.

The front door's barely clinging to its hinges, there's a gaping hole in the wall of the entryway. And the 18th century maple table that had once been there, is now useless, a pile of splintered wood and dust on the floor.

He'd think they were under attack, but word of Bekah's rampage, of her latest paramour's misstep, had quickly spread throughout the quarter.

Poor fellow's missing a heart, and from what Klaus had seen, it had been _messy_.

Rebekah had, of course, left the bar and stormed home, leaving the clean-up and compulsion of the horrified tourists who'd witnessed her little fit to Marcel and his day walkers. Klaus had stopped by to ensure that everything had gone smoothly, before heading home.

New Year's Eve, new beginnings, didn't mean much after centuries.

He wanders into the house, absently noting the rest of the damages, makes a mental note to send for someone to begin repairs tomorrow.

A tragically common occurrence, with all of his siblings in residence.

He finds Rebekah in the living room, sprawled across the couch, a college aged boy with a bloody neck slumped at an unhealthy angle over the coffee table.

She pays no mind to the remains of her meal, furiously typing into her phone, one hand still stained red to the wrist, shoes discarded and hair disheveled. There's a bottle of very expensive bourbon stuffed into the space between the cushions next to her. She sees him when she reaches for it, and her eyes narrow, as she takes a healthy swig.

"Oh, it's you. So nice to see you, Nik. Don't worry, brother dearest. You won't have to kill this one. I did it myself."

"I heard," Klaus returns easily, snatching the bottle from her grasp. He pours a glass, like a civilized person.

"You heard?" she parrots, "Lovely. Of course. Please get your gloating over with. I'd like to go to bed soon."

"I'll not gloat, sweetheart," Klaus informs her. Magnanimously, in his opinion, while taking a seat in an armchair next to the sofa. "The satisfaction of being right, is more than enough for me."

Rebekah snorts, and opens her mouth, likely to refute that particular assertion. She's plenty of evidence, Klaus knows, to back up a claim that he does rather enjoy a good spell of gloating. Particularly about Rebekah's continued ineptness in selecting romantic partners. But the phone in her hand buzzes, several times in quick succession, drawing her attention from him.

Her face changes quickly, from surprise to annoyance to disgust, until she finally mutters, "Ugh, so crass," tossing her phone aside, and standing from the couch, stalking in the direction of the kitchen.

Curiosity peaked, Klaus reaches out and grabs the phone from midair, before it can land, and he almost chokes on the liquor in his mouth, when his eyes run over the texts.

**Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:46 AM]:**

_Wow, random. Good to hear from you. Not._

**Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:47 AM]:**

_My life is the exact amount of pointless and pathetic that I enjoy, thank you for asking._

**Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:48 AM]:**

_Happy New Year to you too, Rebekah._

**Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:48 AM]:**

_Also, I hope you get astonishing dick in 2016._

**Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:48 AM]:**

_Because you clearly need it._

He's tempted to laugh, but knows his sister won't appreciate it. And it would be awfully inconvenient if she tore the house down altogether.

Rebekah, likely registering the lack of a crash, indicating her phone had broken into pieces, due to her careless treatment, glances over her shoulder. She freezes, when she notices it's in his grasp.

Klaus raises a brow, "Since when are you in contact with Caroline Forbes?" he asks. It's deceptively casual, but a quick flicker of guilt flashes over Rebekah's features, before they become carefully blank.

"She called me a few months ago," Rebekah tells him airily. "Needed a favor. It's not as though we're suddenly besties, Nik."

Klaus hasn't the faintest idea of what Caroline could have possibly needed from Rebekah, and it he's entirely honest it stings a bit that she'd not reached out to him.

"What favor?" he asks evenly, "and did you oblige her?"

"I did," Rebekah answers. "No need for you to search out a dagger. It wasn't for her, not really, but a mutual friend."

"What friend?" Klaus presses, well aware of Rebekah's lack. "And again, Bekah, _what_ favor?"

Rebekah crosses her arms, a mulish set to her mouth, "Matt. And it's really none of _your_ business."

"Did she ask you not to tell me?"

"Oh, would that be acceptable, then? Of course," she bites out snidely.

"Bekah," Klaus grits out warningly.

She huffs, throws up her hands, and stomps over. She reaches for her phone, but Klaus is faster, is out of the chair with the device safely behind his back before her fingers even graze it. "Ugh, fine. As per usual, the idiots in Mystic Falls got into a spot of trouble. Matt got hurt, almost died. Caroline wanted to arrange for him to get out of Mystic Falls, asked for my help in putting together something he'd not question, that was too good to pass up. So I did. And no, she didn't say anything about keeping it a secret from you."

Klaus hums in acknowledgement, mind turning over the information. He's not pleased that Caroline's still hurling herself into fires for her useless friends, and he understands why she'd called Bekah, for this particular request. Klaus' interest in ensuring Matt Donovan lead a full human life is nonexistent.

Rebekah holds out her hand expectantly, her foot beginning to tap.

Klaus shakes his head, "I think I'll keep it, at least until you're in a more fit state. Can't have you antagonizing more of our old friends, hmm?"

Rebekah rolls her eyes, "You're so transparent, Niklaus," she tells him disdainfully, before whirling and stomping out of the room. Klaus hears her rummaging through the freezer, and some of the cupboards, before she makes her way upstairs, her door slamming loudly behind her.

He's been tapping the screen periodically, and as soon as Bekah's locked herself away he flips to her contacts, connecting a call for Caroline.

He's going to consider her contacting his sister to be a loophole, her not attempting to hide it a subtle bit of encouragement. And since he's safely within the borders of New Orleans, he's not breaking any promises, is he?

He's presumed more, on flimsier pretenses, in the past.

Caroline picks up after a few rings, sounding both annoyed and mildly intoxicated, "Seriously, Rebekah? Berating me, and my life choices, via text wasn't enough? You just have to do it over the phone, too? I have it on good authority that New Orleans is supposed to be exciting. Go find something to do."

"I'm 'good authority' now?" Klaus says, when she pauses for a breath. "I'm touched. How very far I've come in your esteem."

Caroline groans, though Klaus thinks she sounds at least somewhat amused. She doesn't hang up, and he counts that as a win. "Klaus. Of course it's you."

"It is. Though not in the flesh, so I do believe I should be safe from your wrath."

"You lasted a few years," Caroline observes. "I'm kinda impressed."

"I'd have held out for longer, but the news that you've apparently struck up a friendship with my sister could not be borne, love. I'm _far_ more interesting."

Caroline makes a noise of disgust, "First of all ew, no. Rebekah and I will never be friends. She's a nightmare, FYI. Second of all, pretty sure you'd have to be more interesting, since she's spent good chunks of the last 1000 years out of it, with a dagger in her chest."

Klaus ignores the mild accusation, "No, I'm quite sure I've always been more interesting."

Caroline lets out a soft laugh, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Do," Klaus advises, before easing in to what he really wants to know. "How are you, Caroline?"

"I'm…" she pauses, for a long time. And when she continues, there's a thread of resignation weighing her down that Klaus finds he does not like, "I'm the same as I've always been."

"Just like you wanted, then," he notes, striving for neutrality. Because he firmly believes that her wants were far too small, would make her miserable, in the end.

Caroline lets out a sigh, mumbles an unenthusiastic agreement to his words. "What about you?" she asks, forcing cheerfulness as she changes the subject, "How's life in New Orleans?"

Rather mundane, if Klaus is being entirely honest. The challenge of taking it back had called to him, but he finds the day to day management of it tedious, finds that dealing with the squabbling factions, often so petty and childish, wears on him.

"I've been thinking of leaving, for a bit," he confesses. "Maybe revisiting some of my old haunts."

"Paris, Rome, Tokyo?" she teases gently.

"Perhaps."

It's incredibly satisfying, that she remembers his words, years after they'd been spoken. Almost as if she'd thought of them, turned them over in her head, like he had with so many of the moments they'd shared. Reluctantly, at first, but he'd come to enjoy the urge, stopped fighting it, in time.

And she's still there, still breathing softly, on the line hundreds of kilometers away. It's more then he'd expected, when he'd impulsively made this call. Klaus decides to venture a little more, "My offer to you does, of course, still stand," he tells her.

She doesn't reject him outright, but the sharpness of her next inhale tells Klaus that he's surprised her.

Does she think he'd moved on? Does she think he'd not known the weight of his words, known what it meant when he'd said he'd seen her in his life? Understandable, because she's so very young.

But he's not. And he's not one to change his mind, once it's set upon a course.

Caroline's next words, little more than a quiet contemplative murmur, are perhaps some of the most shocking of his very long life.

"_I'll think about it."_


	29. Come And Stay

**Notes: **This prompt was probably supposed to be a human AU but it veered vampire/hybrid. Enjoy!

**Come and Stay**

**(Prompt from wearthesamecaroline: Klaroline + Hot Yoga. Title from 'Dirty Mouth' by Hot Hot Heat. Smut**.)

As much as Caroline's changed, since becoming a vampire, some things just don't. She likes plans. Lists. Schedules. Always has, always will.

So she's aggravated, when she walks into the yoga studio, and looks around for an open piece of floor. Caroline had picked Honolulu on a whim, thinking island life, bright sun and pretty beaches, would be a nice change, from her last four years in Berlin.

She hadn't been expecting the traffic.

Rush hour congestion seriously made her want to kill people, especially when it made her _late_.

Caroline likes to get a spot up front, mostly to ogle the instructor. Oliver's Australian, all golden skin and bright green eyes. And he has the best abs she's ever seen, in her ninety plus years. She kind of wants to turn him into a vampire, just to immortalize them, they're that good.

Unfortunately, he's a little _too_ into the whole yoga thing. She'd talked to him, a time or two in the interest of possibly getting her hands, and her tongue, on said abs. Caroline rarely had sex with humans anymore – it was kind of boring, and sometimes a girl just forgot to mind her strength, and that got messy. But she'd considered making an exception, for Oliver Ten-Pack. Plus vampires were kind of thin on the ground in Hawaii, and she'd not had decent sex since moving here, which was not healthy or good for her control. But each time she'd struck up a conversation with Oliver she'd had to clench her teeth together to hold in a yawn. He was all chakras and third eyes and inner chi. Things Caroline neither believed in, nor had any interest in speaking of.

She'd taken up yoga almost a decade ago, in the interest of trying new things. And it had stuck. Caroline enjoyed the fact that she was _great_ at it (thank you supernatural speed and agility!), and liked the single minded focus it required. And, as a bonus, classes were often populated by clean living hippie types, and Caroline had found that their blood tended to be _delicious_.

She's been bouncing around a few studios, in the weeks since she's moved to Honolulu, and Oliver's is her favorite, despite it being a little out of her way. That's not a deal breaker, because she makes her own schedule, at the moment. Her current occupation, after her last degree in English Lit, is freelance editing. Caroline had used a little compulsion, to push past the lower rungs, skipped the grunt work, and now got her pick of assignments. It's not her favorite job ever, but it has its perks.

She'd been engrossed in the book she was working on that afternoon (a very dirty tale about a vampire, and the sweet, innocent kindergarten teacher who was hot for his exotic accent and dangerous aura, which was endlessly amusing to Caroline) and had left her house later then she'd wanted to. This had led to a tense drive, and Caroline cursing her fellow drivers the whole way to the studio.

But she'd made it, just in time, and was looking forward to some much needed Zen.

Caroline hurriedly unrolls her mat, in the middle of the back row, just as Oliver calls the class' attention. She whips off her sundress, tossing it behind her, and takes a deep breath, letting the already muggy air of the studio fill her lungs.

It's easy enough to fall into practice – she _has_ been doing this for a while – and once she's holding positions, her skin slickening from the room's heat, her eyes start to wander. There's a woman two people down giving Caroline the evil eye (she assumes it's because her warrior III is a shaky mess, and Caroline's is rock solid). Caroline shoots her a sunny smile, before easily shifting into a forward bend.

Little Miss Competitive is quickly forgotten when Caroline's attention is caught, by the guy in front of her, and his truly exceptional ass.

Maybe she should hang out in the back of the class more often.

She keeps his eyes on him, on the way the lean muscles of his back flex and bunch as he rolls up to a standing position, the drop of sweat that slides down his spine, until it's stopped by the low slung waistband of his thin black pants.

Letting her eyes rake back up, she takes note of the leather cords around his neck, the damp curls. And then she sees the tattoo, on his shoulder. A very familiar tattoo. A tattoo she'd traced with curious fingertips, while the owner of it had lain lax and lazy, between rounds, on the forest floor in Mystic Falls.

Years later she'd done it with her lips, in a shower in New Orleans, while his arms had been braced on the wall in front of them, and her hands were wrapped around his cock.

Later still, in a bed, in a ritzy hotel in Bangkok, while she'd straddled his lower back, and asked him what it meant.

And okay fine, at least a half a dozen other times, in the last sixty years.

As if he'd sensed her stare, and maybe he had, Klaus turns slightly, catching her eyes. She narrows hers, trying to convey just how unimpressed she is to find him here, in her yoga studio, unannounced and uninvited.

She's not an idiot, and she knows that their casual run in's over the years have been orchestrated. But they've always been in places where she was just passing through, never somewhere she's put down roots, no matter how temporary such things were when you'd always look seventeen.

Caroline likes routine, and he's messing with it.

Klaus merely grins and nods, gleaming white teeth and dimples, no hint of the predator, and clearly not the least bit perturbed by her ire.

But then getting her angry had occasionally worked out well for Klaus (and for her, if Caroline was entirely honest) in the past.

She hadn't noticed Oliver coming up beside her, so engrossed was she in her staring contest with Klaus, so she startles, when he touches her, correcting her posture with a hand on her ribcage, his fingers feeling cool against her overheated skin. She barely hears what he murmurs to her, something about grounding her heel, too busy cataloging Klaus' reaction, the tightening of his jaw, the way he glares at the hand on her body.

It's just a flash, a tinge of gold in his eyes, and if you didn't know to look for it you'd probably miss it. But Caroline's sharp eyes catch every shifting emotion, and she's hurtled back into memories, of all the time's he's lost control, and let his monster's face out.

How much she'd liked to be the one making him do it, the power she'd felt, having him underneath her, how incredible he could make her feel with his hands and his mouth and his cock.

God, it really has been too long.

He smiles again, his gaze meandering down her torso. Her nipples have tightened into taut points, with the rush of dirty thoughts, and she knows they must be noticeable, behind the Lycra top she wears.

Oliver wanders away, and her eyes stay locked with Klaus'. His expression has heated, the smile's turned wicked, and she realizes her thoughts must have been obscenely obvious. Her body clenches involuntarily, when he runs the point of his tongue over that unfairly full lower lip.

Yeah, there's no way she's finishing this class.

Making a snap decision Caroline gathers up her things, and leaves quickly. Yet another thing that being in the back makes easier. Caroline doesn't look back, but she knows that Klaus is following her.

She doesn't bother to throw on her dress, stalks through the lobby without a glance at anyone in it, and exits. Caroline leans against her car, waits for Klaus to emerge. Tries not to ogle his chest, when he steps outside and makes his way towards her. Would it have killed him to put on a shirt? There could be children around.

This, Caroline reminded herself, was totally why she couldn't press him against the car and shove her hand down his pants.

Caroline bites down on the inside of her lip, so hard she tastes blood, and pushes that thought away. She forces her expression into cool lines, crosses her arms and stares him down. "Yoga, Klaus? Really?"

"I am working on my rage," he tells her serenely, clasping his hands behind his back, a hint of a mocking smirk playing over his lips.

Caroline lets out a snort, at the thought of him even trying, "Bullshit. Try again. What are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"You do not," Caroline counters immediately.

He lifts a brow, "I've owned a house here for ages, love. I'm quite certain I told you when I bought it."

She freezes, a brief conversation they'd had filtering back to her. She'd been a little tipsy, and it had been decades ago, but she remembers falling asleep to him talking about the colors of the sunset.

It had been her fortieth birthday, and she'd called to thank him for the gift he'd sent.

"And you decided to move into it? Now?" she presses skeptically.

"'Now' is a relative term, isn't it? I've been in residence since last year, I'll have you know."

Caroline studies him, while she weighs his words. He's an excellent liar, she knows, but he's long since stopped bothering with subterfuge or equivocations, with her. "So you expect me to buy that you being here is a coincidence?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. You're far too smart for that. I'd heard you'd moved into the neighborhood…"

"From your creepy spies," Caroline mutters.

Klaus ignores her, continuing his sentence, "…and decided that this city's much too populous to wait around for our paths to cross. Not when we have such fun, once they do."

He's drifted closer, while he'd spoken, only the barest of inches separating his bare torso from hers. And then he reaches out, glides his index finger down the length of her belly, from just under her sports bra, to the waist of her shorts.

Caroline sucks in a breath at the touch, her muscles tightening, body swaying forward. She grits her teeth and stops herself. Because they were outside, in public. In broad daylight. And she had no desire to deal with misdemeanor indecency charges, despite the fact that they'd be easy enough to shed, once she burned through her current identity.

She swallows, presses her back against the car, the sun warmed metal a distracting burn. Caroline lifts her chin and asks, "Should I assume you know where I live?"

"Inviting me over already, love?"

Caroline scoffs, and unlocks her car, relishing the press of his body against hers when she steps forward to open the door, "If you're going to be a dick, Klaus, it'll be a one-time offer. Otherwise I'll see you there." She places a palm on his chest, pushes him away slightly, before climbing in.

She doesn't look back, as she peels out of the lot, keeps her eyes forward, on the winding roads home. She knows he'll follow, knows he can't resist a gauntlet thrown.

It's exactly why she'd done it.

* * *

Caroline bypasses her front door, ducking around the side of the house, and through the fence to her backyard.

A swim sounds just about perfect right now, with her skin sticky, her hair damp with sweat, from the hot yoga class.

The pool was half the reason she'd bought the house. The privacy of the backyard the other half. Both things she's planning on taking advantage of tonight. She shakes out her hair, strips out of her workout clothes. She hears tires on the gravel drive, just before she dives in. She surfaces, and finds Klaus standing on the edge of the pool. "Are you coming in, or what?" she taunts, treading water.

"I'm deciding," he murmurs, head tipping to the side.

"Uh, I'm kind of naked here," Caroline points out. "What exactly is the dilemma?"

"What happens after, love? I'd be delighted to leave you exhausted, boneless, sated. But that will pass, you being a vampire, and a rather stubborn individual. Will you run? Pick up and leave? You've been scared of anything more than a transient fling for decades. And I understand, meant it when I said I'd wait."

She bristles slightly, at the word 'scared.' She'd never liked to admit to her fears, had always preferred to plow through her doubts, thinking optimism, and the force of her will, would see her through. "What, and now you're tired of waiting?" Caroline snaps, sinking lower in the pool, trying to hide, in case she'd just thoroughly humiliated herself.

Klaus laughs, warm and genuinely amused, "Not at all. You're still so very young, Caroline, and you grow more fascinating, by the decade. But I wonder if it isn't the time to try a little persuasion, to show you what you could be, what you could have, with me."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, orgasms a plenty. I kind of figured that out already, Klaus."

"Not precisely what I'd meant, but I do appreciate the compliment to my prowess. We'll start there, if you'd like."

The ache between her thighs, the prickling of her skin, tells Caroline that she very much _would_ like. But it wouldn't be them, if she didn't push back. "_Start_ there? What happens after?" she questions.

"You don't run," he tells her simply. "You let me convince you that you want to stay. You understand that I intend to be _very_ convincing."

She's tempted, by the promise in his eyes, the low, coaxing tones of his voice. By her lingering dissatisfaction with her mostly solitary life, the boredom that drives her to try endless new hobbies. Klaus has been a constant, even if he's been a fleeting one and she's found herself lingering in his presence, something he'd likely noted, more and more. In the beginning she'd given him hours, then days. Four years ago they'd spent three weeks together. She'd blamed the weather, conveniently ignoring the fact that a little blizzard was nothing to either of them.

She'd always been the one to make excuses, and he'd always let her go, with knowing eyes and a softly spoken, annoyingly assured, "I'll see you later, Caroline," and a kiss on her cheek.

She'd totally been planning on making him wait a century.

But she'd already set foot on every continent, had careers, adventures, lovers. And what was a couple of decades, to a vampire?

Caroline lifts a shoulder, feigns casualness, even though she knows he can hear the nervous pounding of her heart, "I've only been here a few weeks. Haven't even begun to see the sights. It'd be a shame to leave so soon."

It seems to be what he'd wanted to hear.

Klaus is diving into the pool, before she's finished the sentence. He's fast, losing his pants and slipping under her, plastering himself to her back. He wraps an arm around her waist and spins them, and Caroline reaches out to catch herself on the side of the pool. Klaus winds his free hand in her wet hair, tugging gently until she tips her head to the side. She expects his lips, after the faint scrape of his stubble, but his fangs are a welcome shock, digging into her skin as his hand delves between her thighs. She cries out at the initial sting, moans as he drinks deep. His fingers find her clit, worrying the sensitive bundle of nerves. She moves, rocks against his hand, fast breaths coming from her parted lips.

Klaus withdraws, takes a long lick of her wound, humming in satisfaction. He lets go of her hair, and offers her his wrist, sinking two fingers inside of her. Caroline bites down without hesitation, the taste of his blood on her tongue the thing that pushes her over the edge.

He nuzzles her neck, as she relaxes into him, "I need you out of this pool, love," he rumbles, spinning her and boosting her out before Caroline can even think to reply. She lets out a noise, an embarrassing little squeal of shock, that turns into a whine, when he pulls her to the edge and pushes her thighs wide, his mouth diving between them. And then his tongue is inside of her, his thumb rolling over her clit, and Caroline's hips are arching up, her hands scrabbling uselessly at the concrete needing something to hold on to.

"Klaus," she moans, her head tipping back as he works her higher, fingers and tongue precise and devastating and _perfect_. Her legs are quivering, and she can't seem to catch her breath, the tension coiling inside of her. He pulls back and she wants to scream, until he speaks, hoarse and demanding, "Look at me, Caroline," he murmurs, lips wet with her arousal, fangs out and eyes yellow.

It sends another hot jolt of need through her, and she pushes up on her elbows. He holds her gaze as his head dips, and she watches him taste her, watches his lashes flutter in satisfaction, feels his moan against her skin.

He's merciless, hitting all the right spots, and it only takes a few more passes of his tongue, before she's shaking through an orgasm.

But she still wants more.

Caroline reaches down, threads her hands into his curls, uses her grip to tip his head back, "Get up here," she says. It's an order he's happy to obey, and he's out of the pool with a quick push of his arms. She sits up, before he can crawl over her, swinging a leg over his hips. She reaches between them, strokes him gently, then not so gently, until he hisses into her mouth, his hands clenched tightly on her hips. Caroline brushes her lips over his, slips her tongue into his mouth, a slow tease as she positions his cock at her entrance. When she opens her eyes she finds him watching her, his features drawn tight. He's so tense underneath her, muscles like stone. She grabs his wrists, tugs his hands from her hips, and places them over her breasts as she sinks down, taking him in one smooth slide. He sucks in a harsh breath, and Caroline moans, as his fingers begin tugging at her nipples, her body clamping down around him. She's had vague ideas about staying still, about taking this slow and torturing them both, but he feels too good, his fingers too skilled. She's quickly got her hands digging into his shoulders, and she's riding him in earnest, her hair slapping against her back.

She's almost there, skating along the edge, when Klaus moves, rolling them and pinning her to the ground, his hips holding hers immobile. She squirms, mindless, uncaring about the rough stone at her back. She lets out a whimper, nails digging into his back, her legs climbing up his hips, but still he doesn't give her the friction she's craving. "Klaus," she pleads, "more."

But he shakes his head, withdrawing painfully slowly, before easing back inside of her. "Are you convinced yet, love?" he asks, and Caroline locks her legs around him, attempting to keep him inside of her.

But he's stronger, and easily stills her hips, continuing the slow glide. She lets out a frustrated groan, tries a taunt, "I've only come twice, Klaus. Is that supposed to be convincing?"

Klaus makes a contemplative noise, grinding against her clit on his next down stroke in a way that leaves her shuddering, "I suppose you've a point, I believe our record is what, six, in a night?"

"Seven," Caroline corrects, voice rough. "That time in Sao Paulo."

His next thrust is unexpected, a harsh snap that leaves her breathless. He's not exactly steady, when he speaks either, thankfully. "Ah yes, however could I have forgotten that? I suppose it gives me something to strive for."

And then he picks up the pace, giving her what she needs, and it's not long until she comes again.

Klaus barely gives her time to recover, before he's scooping her up, and tumbling her on to one of the chaises, hooking her legs over the armrests.

He manages eight, that night. Nine the next, after he's taken her to dinner, and she's agreed to another.

In the end it's not even the sex that convinces her.


	30. Two Strangers

**Notes: A Celeb!AU. I was going to publish this with the last one, but since the only thing they have in common is shameless perving on Klaus' **_**assets**_** I went with posting them separately. Feedback welcome and appreciated!**

**Two Strangers**

**(Prompt from candicemorgan: kc + "you're a celebrity incognito trying to hide from paparazzi and you're sitting right next to me and i'm the only one that recognizes you" au. Title from 'Faithfully' by Journey. Rated K+)**

She's been debating saying something for a solid fifteen minutes. Pretty much since he'd come in, taken a seat at the bar, his eyes darting around the sparsely populated room like he was braced for attack. But it's 3PM on a Tuesday, and the only customers are the regulars, more interested in their beers and heckling CNN then the fact that Klaus Mikaelson, actor, and last year's _People Magazine's_ Sexiest Man Alive, was in their midst.

Caroline had only noticed him because it was technically her job. And because he seemed a little crazy, with the twitchiness and the black beanie he hadn't bothered to take off. But she'd recognized him, the firm jaw and full lips, the little hint of a tattoo peeking out from his collar. Controlled her inner thirteen year old girl, that wanted to squeal and ask for an autograph. He'd seemed stressed, and she really didn't want to make that worse.

So she'd asked him if he wanted anything to drink, when he'd settled, casual as she could, and he'd ordered a glass of bourbon (the most expensive brand they carried) on the rocks, without even glancing up at her.

Rude, but not something she was unaccustomed to. She'd managed a polite, "Coming right up," and had crossed her fingers that Mr. Hollywood wasn't a crappy tipper like most of the customers who were dicks right off the bat.

She'd gone back to her textbooks, once he was nursing his drink, but had kept an eye on him, noted that he tensed up whenever the bell over the front door clanged, or someone walked behind him, on their way to use the restrooms.

Eventually, she can't resist anymore. It's a flaw, one she acknowledges, but Caroline had never been very good at keeping her mouth shut. She grabs a rag, and makes her way over, wipes down the section of the bar top nearest him. She murmurs, "You know, if you're trying to be inconspicuous, you're doing a _terrible_ job at it."

She doesn't look directly at him, when she says it, but turns enough to see his head swivel slowly in her direction, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "I'm not sure what you mean, love?"

"Oh, please." Caroline rolls her eyes, and moves down so they're facing one another. She plants her hands on the counter and leans over, speaking quietly. "Everyone in this room, other than you and me, is at least sixty years old. No one's going to recognize you. Someone might call the cops, however, if you keep acting sketchy. Probably think you're here to rob the place. At least lose the hat."

Grudgingly, he reaches up and pulls it off, and Caroline bites her lip, trying not to giggle at the mess of it. It's kind of adorable, but she doubts he'd appreciate that sentiment. He runs a hand through the curls, until their slightly more orderly, than asks ruefully, "So what is it that gave me away?"

Caroline shrugs, "I was watching one of your movies on TV the other night. Guess your face was just fresh in my mind."

It's totally a lie. But she's not going to confess to the giant crush she'd harboured on him as a teenager. How his face (and shirtless torso) had been plastered her bedroom walls, in her locker. Or that even today, when she was flipping through the tabloids that accumulated in the breakroom, Caroline always, _always_, read the articles about him.

Because that would be embarrassing. And she's doing such a good job of playing cool.

A little voice in the back of her head pipes up to remind her that, according to the aforementioned gossip mags, Klaus Mikaelson was currently single. And set to begin shooting a movie in the city next month. Caroline ignores her pesky subconscious, because that was crazy, even if he's looking at her with something like interest.

Shifting on her feet, she nods down to his glass, "Refill?" she asks, pasting on a smile.

"Please," he replies, and Caroline whirls away to pour his drink. He reaches for it, when she goes to set it down, and the brush of their fingertips feels deliberate, his "Thank you, sweetheart," low and warm and _absolutely_ not making her blush.

She darts away, after a hurried, 'You're welcome,' ducking out from behind the bar under the guise of checking on the other customers. Really, she just needs a second away from him. He's attractive on the big screen, but disconcertingly magnetic in person. It's kind of not fair at all.

She takes a couple orders, banters with her favorite regulars, and is just about to head back over to the bar, nerves sufficiently steeled, when she notes a commotion outside of the bar, a clump of guys with cameras and cigarettes camped out on the sidewalk by the entrance.

Ah, that explained why Klaus looked like he was being hunted. She feels a little bad for him, for the fact that he can't go about his afternoon in peace. And so she decides to do something about it.

Caroline throws open the front door, and leans against it, "Can I help you gentleman? Or is there a reason you're clogging up my sidewalk? This is a business and you lurking doesn't exactly make the place seem welcoming, you know?"

The one closest to her eyes her up and down dismissively, "Relax, Blondie. We're just looking for a shot."

Tipping her head to the side, Caroline pulls out her very best dumb blonde, "Well, it's a bar. I've got plenty of those if y'all wanna come on in and spend some money."

One of them snorts, and a few laugh, "Photographs," the first one says, enunciating the syllables obnoxiously. "Klaus Mikaelson's in there, and a candid of his goes for about two grand."

"Um, except he's not here," Caroline tells them, widening her eyes. "Trust me, I would know. I've totally watched the gladiator one he's in a hundred times." They eye her skeptically, and annoyed grumbles float over, so Caroline decides to push it, "That ass in that kilty thing? Come on. I slow mo-ed it. A lot." A few begin to shuffle. Sensing victory she heaves a big sigh and continues mournfully, "There's just me, a cook, and a couple of retirees. No eye candy in sight."

They clearly buy it and the complaints get louder, a couple of curses and general bitching about time wasted, while they pull out cell phones. Caroline hides a smile, and waves sunnily, "Have a good day!" she calls after them, waiting for them to disperse before going back inside.

And immediately meets Klaus' eyes. He looks both impressed and amused, and oh god, did she really say that about his ass? Out loud? And he'd _heard_ it?

Her face feels like it's burning, and there's no way it's not bright red.

Caroline lifts her head, stubbornly refusing to look away as she crosses the room. She holds her breath, waiting for him to speak, as she gathers up the orders she'd taken before she'd shooed the paparazzi away, placing them on a tray.

Really, he should be _grateful _and do her a solid and not question her very effective methods.

But the quick furtive glance she shoots him, just before she hefts the tray, finds him looking far more relaxed, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips, as he watches her movements. Still, he doesn't say anything, and Caroline hurries away.

She stalls, making conversation, arguing about politics, for as long as she can. She half hopes he'll leave, now that she's removed the obstacle, but she knows it's a futile wish, can feel his gaze on her back.

Finally, when the small talk has run dry, and everyone has a fresh drink, Caroline knows she can no longer avoid facing the music, or the mockery. And she really needs to finish the assignment she'd been working on, so she might as well get it over with. She avoids looking at Klaus, hops up onto her stool, and gazes down at her notebook.

Klaus shifts over a few stools, into her line of sight, and she braces herself. But when he speaks it's not what she was expecting, "Thanks. For sending them away. I was looking at an apartment a couple of blocks away and I think someone must have tipped them off."

Warily, Caroline looks up, "You're welcome," she says slowly.

"What's your name, love?" he asks, leaning forward, his elbows on the bar.

She blinks, because this is so not how she'd thought this conversation would go. "Caroline," she tells him.

"And what are you studying, Caroline?" he asks curiously, gesturing to her books.

And ugh, also on the list of things that aren't fair? The way her name rolled off of his tongue, like an unintentional seduction.

"Journalism. At NYU," she answers.

He makes a noise, a hum of acknowledgement, "And are you very busy, love? Or would you like to have a drink with me, sometime?"

It's a struggle, to keep her jaw from dropping. It's hardly the first time she's been asked out (though sadly most of her invites come from drunks these days) but she can't say she's ever been asked out by someone famous. Who's starred in more than one of her dirty dreams.

"I…" she stutters out, under his expectant gaze.

His blue eyes lighten, grow sly, and that annoyingly attractive smirk slides back over his face, "Come now, take a chance. Play your cards right and you could very well get the opportunity to inspect my arse in person."

Caroline cringes, covering her eyes with a palm, "Oh, god. Could you please forget I said that? It was only for dramatic effect!"

He laughs, reaches over tugs her hand away from her face. And he doesn't let go. Caroline looks up, likes the sight of his smile, the dimples in his cheeks standing out, "I take it as a compliment," he informs her. "And proof that the awful diet and thirty hours of working out I did every week leading up to shooting paid off."

He seems genuine, the words easy and open, not the least bit accusatory. Caroline supposes he'd likely heard worse, and definitely more lewd, if he's ever Googled himself. She finds herself smiling back, sucking in a breath as his thumb strokes over her knuckles, "So? Drinks," he prompts, looking hopeful.

She bites her lip, "I really can't tonight," she says, gesturing to her notebook, "I have to finish…"

"Tomorrow, if you'd like," he interrupts. "Or this weekend, even. We can make it a proper dinner."

Caroline blinks, "Okay, wow, you're very…"

"Direct? Guilty. But people, women especially, don't usually talk to me like you have, love. I find I like it, and I'd like to talk to you some more."

She swallows hard, and who's she kidding, she's already mentally planning her outfit. "Dinner sounds great. Friday?" she asks him.

He grins, like she's just made his day, "Perfect. I'll pick you up at eight.


	31. Sequel Snippets (One)

Notes: I've been a bit blocked lately so I challenged myself to do little mini sequels the other day. And here's the results! Some might get polished up and make it into longer drabbles someday, we'll see. A million thanks to **klarolinessecondbreakfast** for my pretty new cover!

**You're Better Than Normal**

**(Takes place in the same universe as the first drabble in Chapter 16. The one where Caroline and Bonnie wake up in the future, trapped in a cave).**

She paces, waiting for Bonnie to wake. It's been at least twelve hours, and Caroline had been worried since she'd woken up (with Klaus, but that was a whole other ball of anxiety to be unpacked at a later time) and informed that Bonnie had not stirred. She'd been assured that it was normal, that witches sometimes needed rest after big spells to recharge, ("She's not a freaking battery!" Caroline had snapped. And she's pretty sure that it was only the warning look Klaus had leveled at Kol that had kept the volatile younger Mikaelson from snapping back. Or snapping her neck).

She'd left the breakfast table, and it's weird, unidentifiable, array of food-like things, in a huff and made her way to the room they'd deposited Bonnie in last night. She'd been soothed by Bonnie's strong, regular heartbeat, by the steady rhythm of her breaths. She'd relaxed enough to accept the glass of blood Rebekah had dropped off, had even remembered her manners and muttered a thanks.

Rebekah had left quickly, after muttering something about yelling if Caroline was too dim to remember how to work the shower, leaving the door ajar.

She'd downed the blood quickly, rinsed the glass (managing just fine, _Rebekah_), since Bonnie was still a little uneasy about the whole blood drinking vampire thing. Better then she had been, but Caroline took care to hide the monster as much as possible.

And then, unable to sit still, nervous energy thrumming through her body, and a whirl of thoughts that needed to be worked out, she'd started to move.

Fourteen strides, from wall to wall, and she'd never been more grateful for Klaus' penchant for opulence. She's making lists, in her head, of all the things she still needs to know, and all the things she'll need to do. Like, how's she going to go about getting a driver's license? Do people still have those? Or is there a retinal scan, or some creepy microchip implanted in your body? Caroline had never been much for sci fi movies, something she deeply regrets now that her life has kind of become one.

She's got her ears focused on Bonnie, however, and recognizes the little annoyed noise Bonnie always makes when she's about to wake up. Caroline's in the chair beside the bed in under a second, legs pulled up under her, trying to look casual and like she's not freaking out.

But Bonnie's known her forever, and it only takes a second before her green eyes sharpen, and focus on Caroline, a look of resignation in them, "How bad is it?" she asks.

Caroline chews on the inside of her lip, for a second, considers how to answer. She can't lie, won't lie. But a little stalling won't hurt, "Honestly? It's not great, Bon. But we're alive. We're out. But I think it'll be better if you shower before we get into everything."

Bonnie sits up, pushing the covers away, makes a disgusted face at the grime covering her body and the bed, "Ugh, I can't believe I fell asleep like this."

"You were right out," Caroline tells her. "Rebekah tucked you in, and you didn't even notice."

"Yeah, that's weird. And I wish you hadn't told me that."

Caroline cracks a smile, at the mildly disgusted look Bonnie wears, "Don't worry. I have it on good authority that Nice Rebekah will be a fleeting presence. We'll probably miss her once Bitch Rebekah rears her ugly head."

"I heard that!" Rebekah bellows, from several rooms away.

Caroline has to look away, from Bonnie, because she knows she'll start giggling, if she doesn't. And that will likely not endear either of them to Rebekah. Once she's swallowed down the urge, she stands, brushes her hands together, "You'll have to bear with me, cause everything in the bathroom is crazy fancy, and I've only been in it once. I'm pretty sure there's no boil humans alive setting though."

"Are you sure?" Bonnie asks dryly. "You're aware of just who lives here? Might be something they do for fun."

Klaus, with his impeccable timing, chooses that moment to poke his head in the door, "Now why would we overcook a perfectly good meal?"

Bonnie glares, dark and deadly, and Caroline hastily steps into her line of sight, just in case she starts throwing magic around. "He's joking, Bon. Klaus just doesn't realize that he's not actually funny."

She shoots him her own quelling look, more exasperated than upset, and he merely smirks back, leaning against the open doorway. "Nonsense, my sense of humor is delightful, everyone says so."

"People you're attempting to kill, I'm guessing? I think that counts as duress and you should assume they're lying."

Klaus places a hand over his heart, his face dropping into an exaggeratedly wounded expression. Caroline rolls her eyes, "Did you need something?"

He straightens, turning serious in an instant, "Yes, actually. Our guests will be arriving within the hour." Klaus' eyes flit over to Bonnie, and Caroline glances over to find her friend looking puzzled at Klaus' words. And no way is she going to start explaining with Klaus right there. There are things Bonnie needs to hear from Caroline. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to see them," she says.

He nods once, in acceptance, rocks back a step, before turning to leave. A thought occurs to Caroline, one she's kind of ashamed hadn't before. "One sec, Bon," she says, before darting out the room after Klaus. He turns, a brow raised, and she kind of invades his personal space, to speak quietly. He doesn't protest, and Caroline tells herself she's only doing it because she doesn't want to get Bonnie's hopes up. "Bonnie's mom was a vampire. Can you find out what happened to her? If she's still around?"

"I can," he says. "I even have a reasonably good idea of where to start looking."

"Good. Thank you. Let Enzo know what I'm doing, and that I'll find him as soon as I can."

"And our other guests?" Klaus asks mildly. "Any specifications for how I treat them?"

She knows what he's asking, wonders what it says about her that her first instinct is to ask for a little bloodshed, Damon's in particular. "Are their memories still gone?"

"Yes. It was a clever spell. I've reason to believe that your little witch friend is the only person who can break it."

Caroline's not surprised. Of course Damon would craft the tiniest loophole possible. "Then we wait. They should know what they're paying for, shouldn't they?"

Klaus' eyes gleam, a slow, pleased smile tugging at his lips, "I have always enjoyed the way your mind works, love?"

She remembers, had always found it flattering, his intrigue with her brain when so many had only seen a pretty face or attractive body. What does it mean that it's endured, that he still looks at her like that?

Klaus tips his head, gestures to the room behind her, "You'd best return, it sounds like someone's getting impatient."

She can hear Bonnie moving around, now that he mentions it, "Right. I should," but still Caroline hesitates. She wants to say thank you, again, but she feels like she's already said it so many times. Knows she'll probably need to say it more, over the coming days and weeks.

"I'll send someone with a tray of food, in a bit. And you may find me, if you need anything."

"Klaus…" Caroline murmurs, trailing off helplessly. But she can't find the words, not something she's familiar with. And hey, she's always been good at actions, too. Before she can second guess herself, she puts her hand on his shoulder, rises and brushes her lips over his cheek. He stiffens, and his eyes are slightly wider when she pulls back, trained on her face. She feels a momentary surge of satisfaction, at having caught him off guard.

Surely not many people can claim the same.

Caroline lets her hand slide down his arm, before she steps back. Throws him on last smile, before she turns on her heel.

Because Klaus and all the things between them will keep, he's proven that. And Bonnie needs her more, right now.

**Magnets Pull Me In**

**(Follows the Hogwarts!AU, in which Klaus has suffered a Quidditch injury. The first part is the second drabble in Chapter 11).**

It had been three days since Caroline had been tasked with Klaus duty, and things were definitely not back to normal. Things were… weird. And it was freaking her out. He'd been confined to the hospital wing, for most of Sunday, and when Caroline had popped her head in to check on him (because it was her duty, of course) he'd been surrounded by his younger siblings and an appalling amount of chocolate frog wrappers.

She'd slipped out before they'd noticed her, telling herself that she was not disappointed. Not at all.

He'd made an appearance at dinner, but had quickly been surrounded by the rest of the quidditch team, and they'd loudly talked and laughed and replayed the match. And she'd had a final draft of a potions essay to finish.

God, she would kill for a laptop and a printer sometimes.

But that day hadn't been weird. It had been a little Klaus-light, sure, but it's not like she'd _missed_ him, or anything.

But the next day, at breakfast, he'd slid in next to her and used his good arm to hand her a pitcher. And she'd been just about to pass it along (because she'd never quite gotten a taste for pumpkin juice), when his hand had stopped her. He's poured a glass, without saying a word, and Caroline had been shocked at what had come out.

Orange juice. Actual orange juice.

"Stopped by the kitchens, and requested it. The elves were happy to oblige," he'd said casually. As if it wasn't the nicest thing he'd ever done for her. As if it wasn't the nicest thing Klaus had done for anyone, save possibly his sister, that she'd ever heard of.

And it had only continued from there. He'd opened doors, offered perfectly charming, not at all lecherous compliments. He'd _agreed_ with her, even when she'd gone out of her way to be confrontational.

And Caroline was flattered, don't get her wrong. But also kind of confused. Because she'd told him to be _nice_, not an entirely different person.

And it's on the third day, when she snaps. They're in the common room, and it's late. Klaus has been scratching away at a sketchbook, and he must have some kind of charm on it, because she can't see what he's drawing and she'd tried. Repeatedly. Caroline's supposed to be writing her proposal for her final Arithmancy project, but she's mostly been sneaking furtive glances at Klaus.

She decides to call it a night, because if she's not getting any work done she should at least try to get some sleep. He looks up when she starts throwing her things in her bag, "Heading to bed, then?"

"Yeah," Caroline mutters.

"Pleasant dreams, love," he returns, tone mild and almost sweet.

Sweet. Klaus Mikaelson. Maybe he had some lingering brain damage after all?

Fed up, Caroline drops her stuff, "What is your problem?" she hisses, planting her hands on the table.

Klaus blinks, confused, "My problem?"

"Why are you being so…" she waves her hands for a couple of seconds, struggling for the right words, "bland? You're like a freaking pod person!"

"You said…"

"I know what I said! But I didn't mean…"

Suddenly, Klaus grins, tossing his sketchbook aside, and leaning back in his chair, "Ah, I see," he says slowly, looking smugly pleased with himself.

And it might be the first hint of the real Klaus that Caroline has seen in ages, so she's not as annoyed with it as she should be, "What, exactly, do you _see_?"

"You like me, Caroline Forbes," he replies, brimming with confidence. "More than you want to admit. Even the bits you claim to find insufferable."

Caroline feels her face heat, even as she sputters, because he's right, damn it. The dry sense of humor, the quick wit. The snobby little asides and the long suffering expressions he wore when talking with people he considered intellectually inferior (which was basically everyone, save for her, and a handful of his friends). "Shut up," she manages to spit finally, fumbling for the bag she'd dropped.

She throws it over her shoulder, and turns to leave, but Klaus speaks, before she's made it very far, repeating his previous offer, "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me, Caroline?"

This time she says yes, even if she's not exactly happy about it.

**Pocket Full of Stones**

**(A little follow up of the mermaid!Caroline drabble. It's the second one in Chapter 18).**

She's a stone-faced little thing, this mermaid, cold and complacent and unwilling to cower. Warlords, generals, presidents and centuries old vampires alike have flinched under the force of his gaze, occasionally fallen into blubbering hysterics. But not this girl. _She_ barely blinks. Merely watches him, because she's obviously not stupid. It's impressive, and that's not something that Klaus feels often.

She'd refused to speak again, had retreated to the exact center of the pool. Klaus can't reach her, without getting in, and he suspects that water would give her a slight edge she'd not have on land.

He needs to get her out of the pool. But first he needs more information.

Kol's retreated to a lounge, has an arm thrown over his face to block the sun, bored with the staring contest between Klaus and the girl in the pool. Klaus kicks the chair over, and Kol rolls neatly out of it, landing on his feet, "Rude, Niklaus."

Klaus ignores the rebuke, "You're certain she can't leave the pool, without the bracelet?"

"She can, but she won't get far. Starts to suffocate. S'not pretty."

Klaus finds his eyes narrowing, glancing between his brother and their guest, "And you'd know that, how?"

"I took it off her after she killed the ship's second engineer. Took a while to get her into a tub. She turned a bit grey and made the most awful sounds. Had to compel the whole crew, after that."

And that little tidbit certainly explained why she was not the least bit cooperative. Though the kidnapping, and being brought across the world, likely didn't endear Kol, or Klaus, to her either.

She's dipped low in the water, little more than her eyes visible, once more. They remain alert, calculating, and Klaus would bet a considerable chunk of his possessions that she's a half a dozen plans for escape in that pretty head of hers.

And that she'd be perfectly content to make her getaway whilst covered in his blood.

Tearing his gaze away from her, with some difficulty, Klaus issues a terse order, "Watch her, Kol. Do not touch her, or try to speak to her. I think you've _helped_ more than enough."

Kol mutters something about not being an underling, but he rights his chair again, settling onto it with more quiet complaints. Satisfied that his brother's going to listen to him, at least for now, Klaus retreats to the house, heading back to his office.

Klaus turns his options over in his head. There's several witches, in New Orleans, whose loyalty he's confident in. The ambitious types, the ones that recognize that being in his favor can bring them advantages, and then there's a few whose interests are more… personal. He's hesitant to make the call to one of the first group, in case Kol's correct, and the mermaid is a source of power, one they might think to exploit. And there's a risk, in reaching out to one from the second group. A little flare of jealousy is the last thing he needs. He suspects that the mermaid can hold her own, use claws and teeth, if threatened, but he'd rather not risk it. And a dead witch would be a nuisance to explain away.

His other option, the one he's leaning towards, is to go right to the source and Naxos Coven. It's sooner then he'd like, but Klaus needs answers, and they'll surely have them. He'd rather do it in person, of course, because few things were as satisfying as watching as you instilled fear, the _scent_ of it, heady and thrilling, in the air.

He'll call a few of his contacts in Greece first. They'll be a bit perturbed, by the damage Kol had done, but that one vampire's arm would grow back, eventually, and a handsome bonus would smooth away any hurt feelings. They'd still be in the area, or could be persuaded to return, should the coven leaders prove difficult to persuade, over the phone.

Outsourcing violence wasn't ideal, but Klaus had more pressing matters to deal with close to home.

**The Things We Laid**

**(An Enzo POV that follows the events of The Things We Laid, which I wrote for an exchange. That one's a separate doc, and can be found on my profile!)**

Enzo hears the footsteps on the stairs before Caroline does – perks of the century or so of age he's got on her. And he's heard stories of the great Klaus Mikaelson, mostly from Damon and a few from Caroline's own mouth, when she'd been drunk enough. And he can't wait to finally make his acquaintance.

Caroline had been issuing orders as soon as she'd stepped into the sitting room Enzo had staked out – feet off the table, use a glass, do not antagonize the hybrid, that sort of thing. She'd assured him that Klaus had promised not to kill him, but that he likely could think of all sorts of ways to make Enzo wish he would.

Enzo doubted it. He was, after all, excellent at withstanding torture. He'd always thought it a pity that wasn't a more marketable skill.

Caroline's bustling around the room, pulling down the sheets that cover the furniture, wrinkling her nose every time she gets a face full of dust. She's distracted, and not aware that they're about to have company.

Enzo snags her arm, as she walks past the couch he's staked out, and pulls her down next to him. "Gorgeous, relax," he orders, handing her his glass. "I'm exhausted just looking at you."

She grumbles, but settles back into the couch, taking a sip of the most excellent bourbon that Enzo had helped himself to. He was reserving judgement on Klaus but the man knew how to buy liquor. Enzo throws his arm around Caroline, just before the hybrid himself enters the room.

He might be ignoring the rule about antagonizing Klaus. Just a smidge. Enzo finds he just can't help himself. He wants to know what Klaus is capable of, and what's between him and Caroline. Because Caroline's the sort of girl who'll do anything for a friend, had flown halfway around the world, and made her fingers bleed, for Klaus. And Enzo's not sure the bloke's worthy of that.

Enzo's got his attention on the doorway, but Klaus only has eyes for Caroline, at first. He looks far better, than he had when Enzo had left him in his bed. Alive, for one. There's an air of determination about him, a tenseness to his frame.

It eases, somewhat, when he sets eyes on Caroline. Enzo wouldn't call it softening, but there's something in the way he looks at her. Something Enzo will have to dig into further.

Caroline moves to get up, when she sees Klaus, but Enzo lets his arm lay heavier on her shoulders, and she squirms slightly, sending him a dirty look. He ruffles her hair, smirking down at her. And gets a very pointy elbow in his side.

"Ouch. That's not relaxing, Caroline," he chides.

She opens her mouth to retort, and he guesses it'll be ear blistering, and possibly not suitable for small children, but Klaus speaks first, "I believe introductions are in order."

It's phrased like a suggestion, but the steel underneath, the way Klaus' hands are gripping the back of the sofa he stands behind, make it clear that it's one he expects to be obeyed.

"I hardly thing that's necessary," Enzo drawls. He hefts his glass, "I'm Enzo, you're Klaus. We both know Caroline. We're almost ready for friendship bracelets."

Caroline groans, and this time when she moves to stand, he lets her up, flashing her a grin when she plants her hands on her hips, looking supremely irritated, "Seriously. Are you trying to get temporarily dead?" She turns to Klaus, without letting Enzo get a word in, "Try to ignore him. He's not great at people."

Klaus gives her a nod, a smirk tugging at his lips, as he rounds the couch, settling himself onto it. "And how did you two come to be… friends?"

He weights the last word, his gaze on Enzo assessing. If Caroline notes it, she doesn't react. Her phone buzzes, and she digs it out, speaking absentmindedly as she taps out a text, "He's kind of an old friend of Damon's, but don't hold that against him. We had to do a little murder, to save Stefan this one time, and then Enzo just kind of stuck."

"I do that," Enzo adds, helping himself to more bourbon. He shakes the bottle, in Klaus' direction, because he sort of suspects that he's now stuck with Klaus too, if the way the hybrid's entire head turns to Caroline, when she speaks, the way he focuses on her, is anything to go by.

Klaus accepts a glass, takes a sip and raises an eyebrow. "Not sure it's polite to help yourself to the most expensive bottle in the cabinet, mate."

Enzo shrugs, unconcerned. "I helped dig that lovely coffin of yours out of a meter and a half of ice, mate. I'd say the bourbon's fair recompense, wouldn't you?"

"Perhaps," Klaus allows.

And Enzo can't resist pushing his luck. "And I offered to help with the bathing, like the good friend that I am. But Caroline said that she had it handled."

Caroline makes a noise, high pitched and embarrassed, "Oh my god, shut _up_ Enzo. I'm going to need people to _stop_ bringing that up."

"Don't be so prudish, Caroline. What's a little nudity between friends, after all? I've seen you naked, you've seen me naked. We've both seen Klaus naked. And he's seen you naked. Perfectly natural."

She's grinding her teeth, and he'd bet that the tips of her ears are red, under the thick fall of her hair, "Does that mean you'd like me to leave you two alone?" she bites out. "So you can strip, and close the circle of nakedness, or whatever?"

"Not necessary," Klaus says dryly. "I assure you."

"Right, these things can't be forced. I'm sure it'll happen, while we travel the world together. Collecting imperiled family members and righting wrongs and all that."

He looks directly at Klaus, when he says that. Because it Caroline's set on helping Klaus, Enzo's set on helping Caroline. And he'll not have Klaus thinking he'll be dissuaded or threatened, by anyone, no matter if they're an indestructible ancient vampire or a regular old human.

Klaus' head tips to the side, and his regard intensifies, eyes narrowing as his expression turns considering. Enzo doesn't flinch, and takes a calm sip of his drink. Klaus gives the barest of nods, after a few seconds.

Caroline huffs, snapping her fingers between the two of them, "Oookay, there is way too much testosterone-y weirdness flying around. Do I need to separate you two?"

"No, I think we've reached an understanding," Enzo tells her.

Klaus raises an eyebrow, but doesn't disagree. And perhaps Enzo had exaggerated, and surely there will be rough patches. But as long as Caroline wants Klaus' presence Enzo's willing to endure it.

Though he'll make no promises in regards to being on his best behavior. Because Kol will be arriving soon, and Enzo quite likes the younger Mikaelson. Surely they'll have to do something, to liven up the dull bits. Caroline might even appreciate the levity. Someday.


	32. Busy Running

**Notes: **A random drabble I churned out last week when I was stuck on other projects. Had a lot of fun with this world, totally reminded myself of how much I LOVED DA!

**Busy Running**

**(A _Dark Angel_ inspired AU that popped into my head after I was playing with one of those random prompt generators. If you've never watched the show: the main character was genetically engineered and had enhanced abilities because she had animal DNA as well as human. Smut).**

She really shouldn't be doing this.

Caroline's supposed to be cutting back, to one heist a month, and she'd already lifted a painting from a snotty divorcee she'd had the bad luck to deliver a package to last week. But work had taken her to the museum that afternoon and there was this one necklace – emeralds on the most delicate platinum filigree - that she just _had_ to have.

Maybe there was a little bird DNA somewhere in her cocktail.

She'd circled it, unable to help herself, like a hunter stalking her prey. Had barely registered the other people in the room, only ascertained that there was not a threat amongst the afternoon crowd of tour guides, high school students and senior citizens. She'd only had eyes for the sparkly jewels in the glass cases.

And now, ten hours later, here she was.

The building's security is good, but nothing Caroline hasn't cracked before. The pressure triggered floor easy enough to bypass – one leap and she'd caught a thankfully sturdy light fixture, and had made her way easily across the room without ever touching the ground.

It's not until she's hanging over the display, that her plan hits a snag.

Because the necklace is gone.

The case is undisturbed, but empty, save for a rectangle of gleaming black paper. Etched with a small gold wolf. It's a symbol that she recognizes.

Oh, Caroline's going to _kill_ him.

She scales the side of his building – of course he lives in the penthouse. Breaks the door off the balcony with a flick of her wrist, despite the fact that he'd left it unlocked. Let's herself in, without even attempting stealth.

He doesn't even look surprised to see her, the infuriating dick. Has the nerve to tip his glass in her direction, casual as can be, "Drink? It's quite good," he offers mildly, "I stole it from the mayor."

Caroline scoffs, and stalks over to him, taking the glass from his hand and tossing the liquid back, forcing herself not to cough at the burn, "Are you following me, you creep?"

He doesn't bother to deny it, "You left my bed so hastily, sweetheart. And I found myself intrigued. I've never met a human who could do that."

She doesn't blush, even when his eyes rake down her body, even when his tongue (that she has _very_ fond memories of) sweeps out across his lower lip. "When a girl doesn't leave a note, it means she's not interested in a second round," she tells him flatly, even though it's kind of a lie.

Something about him, something about the way he'd smelled, had hit her hard. They'd been dancing at a fundraiser – a hoity toity shindig she'd been doing reconnaissance at. She hadn't known it at the time, but he'd been doing much the same. They'd moved together so smoothly, and the first thing she'd been aware of was the heat of him, the way his heart beat just a smidge too slowly. And then she'd inhaled, and her pulse had picked up, her senses reeling. She'd grown slick and aroused at an alarming rate. Like a heat cycle, even though she'd been weeks away from that particular awkwardness.

And somehow he'd known.

His hands had clutched her more tightly, his body pressed more firmly into hers. His nose had run along her neck, a low pleased rumble coming from deep in his chest. She'd bitten back a moan, feeling it vibrate through her, and caught his eyes. She'd come to a complete stop, in the middle of the ballroom at the flash of gold in them.

Because he obviously wasn't human. But he wasn't like her either. Which could be very, very dangerous.

She'd wrenched herself out of his arms, mumbled an excuse, and hurried for an exit. Ditched her heels, and hiked up her dress, fully prepared to do whatever it took, to get away from him, even if it was a risk.

But he'd been so very fast. Had managed to get ahead of her, and had caught her elbow, and tugged her into a small gap between two buildings. He'd backed her against a wall and clutched her face, murmured, "What are you?" in a silky tone that dripped intrigue, his eyes burning into hers.

Caroline hadn't been able to help herself. Painfully turned on, with the lean heat of him pressed against her, her instincts screaming at her to _take_. So she'd fisted a hand in his dark blonde curls and yanked his mouth to hers.

Things had been a blur after that. Of kisses and frantic hands. Needy gasps and desperate writhing. He'd ripped the skirt of her dress almost to her waist, had her legs wrapped around his hips and his cock inside of her before she could beg for it. She'd been too far gone to mind her strength, and the vice of her thighs _should_ have crushed him.

But it didn't. Only made him groan raggedly and thrust harder.

And it had been so freaking good. The best orgasm she'd ever had, and she'd barely come down before his hand had slipped between them, his fingers ghosting over her hypersensitive clit. Caroline hadn't been able to say no when he'd breathed, "Come home with me," against her lips.

She'd slipped out early the next morning, on silent feet while, he'd slept peacefully on the fancy sheets they'd ruined.

He ignores her sarcastic barb, his gaze knowing, "But then you're not quite human, are you, love?"

There's no point in denying it. He'd not tried to hide from her, worn gold eyes and black veins proudly when he'd moved inside of her. She's still not sure what he is, had forced her curiosity aside. Because asking questions invited questions, and she wasn't willing to provide any answers. Not when there was a price on her head.

"Takes one to know one," she shoots back petulantly.

He laughs, soft and amused, but his focus remains on her face. "My name is Klaus Mikaelson. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"I didn't ask, did I?" Caroline shoots back. She wracks her brains, but the name rings no bells. And what kind of thief wants to be famous, anyway? She says as much, and he makes another sound of mirth, "It's more of a hobby then a profession, sweetheart. Something to keep me busy."

"Must be nice," Caroline snaps. "But some of us have bills to pay. So give me my necklace, and I'll be on my way."

"Not so fast. You're a bit of a puzzle, to me. I've never come across anything quite like you, and I've come across my fair share of oddities."

Caroline raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms in front of her, "Oddity? That's some sweet talk. Bet it gets you all the ladies."

"I do just fine," Klaus retorts, "as you well know."

He stands then, and Caroline's once again surprised by how he moves. Quick and graceful. Lethal. It should scare her, but it doesn't, only makes her blood hum when she remembers what it had been like to move _with_ him.

He takes a deep breath, and his teeth gleam when he smiles. And then she's flat on her back, pressed between the solid weight of him, and the cushions of the couch. He reaches up, and pulls her ponytail out, spreading her hair out, "Better," he says, almost to himself. His thumb traces her jaw, and down her throat, stopping at the high neck of her jacket and toying with the zipper. She swallows, mouth dry, resisting the urge to touch him, to mold his body to hers, to rub the ache between her thighs away on the solid bulge behind his zipper.

He makes another one of those noises, deep and throaty, and her eyes flutter closed as she bites her lip. "Look at me," he coaxes, just as his fingers begin to tug, the zipper's teeth parting oh so slowly. "I don't mean oddity as an insult, sweetheart. You're special, _fascinating_. I knew it the second I saw you, and I want to know more. I want to know everything."

His head dips, and he kisses the skin of her throat that he'd bared, lips dragging down her sternum. Caroline sucks in a breath, and wills her voice steady, even as he makes it difficult by tugging the fabric of her bra aside to bare a breast, "I'm not great at sharing," she manages to say, biting her lip to hold back another gasp.

He licks, and sucks her sensitive skin, the faint hint of teeth on her nipple making her jolt, before he answers, looking up at her with such heat, "I can be _very_ convincing."

She remembers. And while she's bad at sharing, she's a smart girl. She knows it's supposed to be a give and take kind of thing. She'll be damned if she's the only one giving.

Caroline wraps a leg around him and rolls, bringing them both to the floor. She sits up, pushes when he makes to follow, shooting him a stern look. He subsides, but he's tense, jaw clenched tight. She runs her hand down his chest, slides a hand underneath his shirt to palm the lean muscles of his abdomen.

"Sharing is caring, Klaus. You first. What are you?"

"Complicated," he drawls. She uses her nails, not quite hard enough to draw blood, and his head drops back with a hiss. Caroline files that away for later use.

"Funny, me too. Looks like we're never going to get anywhere," she lifts herself off of him, but he grabs her wrist.

"I was born a werewolf. Made a vampire."

Caroline's first instinct is to laugh, because that's the stuff of fairy tales. But he seems perfectly serious. "A werewolf. And a vampire," she repeats slowly.

"That's right," he says, pulling her back down so she's straddling him once again. "And you seem skeptical, so I'm guessing that you weren't aware that such things existed?"

She shakes her head, trying not to get distracted by his hands on her, the rough palms gliding up her sides. "I'm not entirely convinced you're not screwing with me."

Klaus looks contemplative, calculating, "I assure you that I am not. But I am left wondering what exactly you are."

"I'm not going to tell you. It's not safe."

"I can take care of myself."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "For me, you idiot. And for others. We have to stay hidden."

His expression grows hard, eyes stormy, "From who?" he grits out.

"I can't tell you that, either."

He lets out a harsh breath, but his shoulders remain tense underneath her hands. When he speaks again it's in measured tones, "If someone is hunting you, love. I'm not a bad ally to have."

"I don't even know you. Why would I trust you?"

Klaus relaxes slightly, and nods once, "I suppose you've a point. And I did say something about convincing you, did I not?"

He's up and she's slung over his shoulder before she can formulate a reply. He moves quickly, and if she was only human the hallway to his bedroom would have been nothing but a blur, and then he's depositing her on his bed. He follows her down, hands pressed to the mattress on either side of her head, "Tell me your name. Just your name."

She hesitates, thinks about lying. But something tells her he'll _know, _if she attempts it. "Caroline," she tells him finally.

"Pretty," he comments, with a grin.

"Thank you," she replies sincerely. She had picked it herself, after all.

He pushes up, so he's kneeling above her, eyes dark as he surveys her splayed out in his bed. He brings his hands her hips, "Take off your jacket, Caroline. The bra too."

"Why?" she asks, just to be stubborn.

He flashes a smirk that makes her breath hitch with the filthy promise of it, "Positive reinforcement," he tells her, flicking open the button of her jeans.

She arches up and strips the garments away, lifting her hips at his silent demand so he can do away with the rest of her clothes.

"So pretty," he murmurs. "I've wanted you back in my bed since the second you left it, love." Klaus lifts her leg, presses a kiss to her kneecap, lifts the other and does the same. "Grab the headboard," he tells her, a touch of gravel in his voice.

Caroline shudders, and lifts her hands, wrapping her hands around the metal bars that make up the frame, "I might bend it."

"I hope you do."

His head drops, lips dragging over her slit. His hands on her thighs hold her still, when she tries to lift up for more. He's slow about it, savoring licks that stop just before where she needs his tongue, until she's straining against his hold, trying to shift to get just a little hint of pressure on her clit. She makes a strangled noise when he pulls back, that turns into a moan as he shifts up, his body covering hers. She can taste herself on his tongue when he kisses her hungrily, rubs her body against his, the roughness of his clothes on her skin making her shiver.

"Klaus," she grates out, wrapping her legs around his hips. He rocks against her obligingly, and she lets out a gasp at the sparks it sends shooting through her, "I'm not feeling super positive right now."

She feels his smile against her skin, and then he's off of her, stripping out of his clothes, seams ripping as he goes.

And she can totally get onboard with this whole vampire thing, because he's back on top of her, his cock nudging at her entrance, in the scantest of moments. She releases her death grip on the headboard as he slides inside of her. He's being soft with her, almost gentle, and she needs _more_.

But he's got her hands pinned before she can grab him and flip them over, fingers encircling her wrist. And as much fun as his strength is, she thinks it might get annoying. He chuckles, brushes his lips over hers. "Don't pout, love. I promise to let you take a turn. As many as you'd like." He pulls back, his free hand dropping to tilt her hips, "But for now, _trust_ me."

And then he's driving back inside of her, the angle he's found forces a curse from her lips, as all of her nerves light up in pleasure. The whimper she lets out is almost embarrassing but then he does it again, and again, and Caroline can't bring herself to care. His hand slips between them, and the extra stimulation on her clit leaves her legs shaky, and she spirals into a mind blowing orgasm, calling his name and digging her nails into the back of his hand, with a few more hard thrusts.

He trembles through his own release, muffling a cry in the skin of her throat. He slides off of her but pulls her into his side, and Caroline goes willingly, catching her breath as she listens to his heart. His fingertips glide up and down her back, "Can you tell me something else, Caroline?" he asks idly, as their bodies cool.

She's silent, for a long time. And in the end it's the fact that he hadn't demanded, though she suspects he's dying to, that gets her to drop another tidbit. "My name wasn't always Caroline," she tells him finally.

"I am a thousand years old," he replies casually.

Caroline's head shoots up to look at him, only to find him waiting, and amused smirk on his lips, "How… you're… so old…"

Klaus lets her stutter for a moment, "Yes, I know. I am remarkably well-preserved. That's a perk of vampirism. There are many, that I'd be happy to tell you about."

There's something in his tone, something coaxing. But his hand has drifted low, tracing the dip where her spine curves into her ass, and it's pretty distracting, too distracting. She's not in the mood for a lesson about creatures that shouldn't exist, not with all of his bare skin so conveniently spread out for her to touch and taste. "Later," she says firmly, the hand that's been spread out on his stomach drifting lower. "I'm gonna need some more reinforcement."


	33. Checking It Twice

**Notes:** A tiny, silly drabble I'm posting here because I like for all my nonsense to be in one place. Enjoy!

**Checking It Twice**

**(Prompt: ****CAROLINE &amp; HER TO-DO LISTS and somehow Klaus keeps ending up on top of them. Rated T.)**

As sneaky as Klaus _can_ be – you don't spend centuries outsmarting your numerous enemies, or win the girl, without being a little underhanded – he doesn't often choose to be subtle. So she'd known he wasn't exactly happy lately. Finals were killing her (a double major in chemistry and biology was no joke, as it turned out) and even the fact that she didn't need as much sleep as a human did was only barely keeping her ahead of her coursework.

She totally should have listened to her advisor when he told her the extra credit was a bad idea. And maybe to Klaus too, when he pointed out that there was no reason she had to do her degree in only four years. She had nothing but time, after all.

Luckily, (for Caroline, not the unfortunate soul who was stupid enough to plot to kill her) a threat had popped up at an opportune time, and distracted Klaus. And Caroline didn't even mind the extra vicious torture sessions that probably happened in the basement (as long as they kept it down, so she could study). Klaus had been occupied, first in ferreting out the group responsible, and then with dealing with it. So he hadn't had time to feel neglected.

But, alas, the upstart vampire had been miserably easy to crack, and Klaus had quickly gotten bored. Kol had needed to buy a new bat.

Which meant that Klaus had an excess of free time on his hands, since Caroline was glued to her books. He'd paged through her textbooks a few times, but had quickly gotten bored. He'd sketched, or read, but eventually she could feel the weight of his eyes on her, feel the wave of grump emanating from his side of the couch, the irritated shifting that he didn't actually _have_ to do.

It had messed with her concentration, something she could not afford. So Caroline had dragged a desk into one of the guest rooms on the far side of the house, declared it a Mikaelson free zone (and threatened to get a witch, to spell it, if she had to. And they totally liked her better then any of them so they _would_ do it). And proceeded to study until her eyes were fuzzy and she could feel her fangs aching for blood.

She'd gotten a bag from the refrigerator, shed her clothes, and collapsed into bed. Pushed and prodded at Klaus until he was in an acceptable cuddling position, and fallen asleep as soon as his hand was in her hair.

Woke up, and did the same thing the next day. And then the next.

It's on the fourth day, that her routine is interrupted. Because _someone_ had breached the sanctity of her room. And _messed_ with her _lists_.

Her perfectly compiled, carefully organized list of things she needed to do. And not just the paper copy (which she kept because nothing was quite as satisfying as drawing a thick line through a task she'd accomplished) but the one she kept on her tablet.

And ugh, how did he _always_ figure out her passcodes?!

Each list now has a new entry, right at the top.

_#1: Klaus_

Yeah, not subtle at all.

Dropping the lists onto the desk, Caroline turns towards the door, opening her mouth and shouting his name. He's outside the door in under ten seconds, face schooled into an expression so innocent that she knows he's trying not to laugh. "You rang, sweetheart?"

She gropes behind her, flinging her notebook at him, making an inarticulate sound of annoyance. Klaus dodges it easily, and it sails past his shoulder. He barely glances at it, even when it hits the wall, likely leaving a dent, if the sound's anything to go by. The corner of his mouth ticks up, and he lets his eyes rake down her body, "You seem tense. Anything I can do to help?"

Caroline narrows her eyes, does her very best not to let the hungry way he's looking at her affect her. But she crosses her arms, to hide the tightening of her nipples, curses herself for not bothering to put on a bra. Her voice doesn't betray her, when she speaks, staying steady and scolding, "It would _help_ if you didn't defile my lists."

He shrugs, takes a few steps forward, his eyes on her lips, "You say defile, I say improve."

"Improve?" she scoffs, "that's what you're going with. Really?"

"Give me fifteen minutes. You'll feel relaxed and refreshed, and won't that improve your concentration?"

It probably would. She hadn't gone days without sex in years, and it probably wasn't good for her, vampire and all.

Still, she takes a step back, mirroring his step forward. She wasn't one to give in easily, and he did like a little bit of a chase. "Fifteen minutes? That's it? You're not really selling yourself here, Klaus."

It's a direct hit, like she knew it would be, and he's moving before she can blink, lifting her and setting her on the desk, wrapping her legs around his hips. He's got his hands under her shirt, sliding up her ribs, when he mumbles his next words against her lips, "You're well aware of what I can do in fifteen minutes, love."

He kisses her then, hot and demanding. Caroline lets her fangs emerge, slices into his lip and sucks down on the blood with a moan. He shreds her top, the remnants fluttering forgotten to the floor, grinding his hips in to hers. Klaus tears his mouth away from hers, his eyes dark and just a little triumphant, "Does this mean you're taking a study break?"

"Fine," Caroline agrees, just a little breathless, "fifteen minutes." Before she winds her hand in his hair, and pulls him back down to her mouth.

And maybe it's more like forty-five. But every second is totally worth it.


	34. Day One - Klaroline Valentine's Weekend

**Notes:** A trio of drabbles for the Klaroline Valentine's Weekend event happening this weekend on Tumblr! Today's theme was 'Feels' and I of course went fluffy.

**Perfect Fits**

**(Prompt: AH-AU where Caroline loses a bet and has to dress up in the gold bikini from Star Wars. She is not amused. Title from 'Putting on the Ritz.' Rated T.)**

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

"'Fraid not, love. What's that saying? Oh, yes. Read 'em and weep."

Caroline was honestly close to tears, of the angry variety, staring down at the cards laid out on the table. She'd been so sure her three aces would win. But no. Somehow Klaus had pulled a flush of clubs out of his ass.

She really, _really_ regrets agreeing to 'sweeten' the final pot, with a favor of the winners choosing. Leaning back in her chair, Caroline crosses her arms, pinning Klaus with a hard look that does nothing to dampen the smugness he's exuding. "Okay, guidelines."

He has the nerve to throw his head back and laugh, "I'm quite certain those would have needed to be specified _before_ you lost."

"Sexual favors are _off_ the table," Caroline continues, as if he hadn't spoken. "As is nudity of any kind. And I am not massaging any part of your body."

Klaus appears insulted, "You and I both know I don't need to coerce you into have sex with me, Caroline."

She stiffens before looking around to see if anyone had heard that. Luckily their friends had drifted off, having quickly grown bored with Klaus and Caroline's battle of wills masquerading as a poker game. Some of them (okay fine, mostly Katherine) had been encouraging her to sleep with Klaus ('Because the sexual tension is killing all of us, Cupcake. Just do it and get it over with. Maybe he'll be more tolerable after you've seen his dick!') for weeks. But they didn't know that she already had. And Caroline would like to keep it that way.

Mostly because it allowed her to live in a blissful state of denial about that little incident. If Katherine knew she would _never_ let it go. She'd want details, the dirtier the better, and Caroline wasn't willing to relive the night she'd spent with Klaus.

Because she might be tempted to do it again.

Which was so not happening. It was a onetime thing. A thing that Caroline hadn't even really _meant_ to do in the first place. It had just been some weird twist of fate. Klaus had somehow appeared, after a miserable week. Irritatingly good looking, offering to buy her a drink. And he had turned out to be a surprisingly good listener. Had distracted her by challenging her to a game of pool, and their trash talk had been good natured, without the biting undertone that usually colored their interactions.

But at some point the jabs had turned flirty. And the eye contact had grown heated.

Before long the charged banter became tactile. They'd started touching, deliberate brushes in the close spaces around the pool table. And before she knew it they'd paid the bill and left, and she'd been pressing Klaus against the brick wall of the building, her hands in his hair and his tongue in her mouth.

And Katherine maybe had a point, because Klaus was way more likeable when he was naked. And his mouth was occupied.

That same mouth which was, at the moment, tilted at the corner, into an infuriating smirk. Like he knew what she was thinking.

Caroline leans forward hissing, "_That_ never happened, remember?"

"And I'm certain that it did. Took ages for the scratches on my back to heal."

Ugh, if only the table was smaller. Her shoes were good and pointy and he deserved to be kicked.

She forces herself to smile, and subside in her chair, straining to look relaxed. She did not want to call any more attention to this little stand-off. As tempting as violence was, with her hands itching to wipe that self-satisfied look off of his face, she wouldn't give in. Because Klaus would probably like it if she did.

"Fine," she says, sickeningly sweet. "You won. Fair and square. What would you like?"

"Oh, I'd like many, many things, love," Klaus murmurs, his eyes dropping to her lips. And then lower. And damn it if her body doesn't react. Stupid hormones.

"Wouldn't we all?" Caroline snaps. "You've got twenty seconds, before I'm leaving."

He's quick in making his request. Like he'd been plotting all along. "I simply need you to accompany me to an event next Saturday. In the outfit of my choosing."

That almost sounded too easy. It made Caroline suspicious, "This isn't like some weird fetish thing, is it? Latex and leashes? Because that's not happening."

Klaus rolls his eyes, "No, sweetheart. Simply a costume party. My younger brother and I have a competition going. He's won the last two years and I'm dying to take the crown. He's insufferable, you see."

"Runs in the family," Caroline taunts.

He pouts exaggeratedly, like he's wounded, and she takes the opportunity to push away from the table, "Leaving so soon?" he asks. And if Caroline didn't know any better she'd say he was disappointed.

She drains what remains of the glass of wine she'd been nursing, setting the cup on the table, "Yeah. Perk of living in the neighborhood. Tell Kat I went home, if she asks." Which Caroline kind of doubts. Katherine had been making serious sex eyes at a dark haired man in a suit the last time Caroline had seen her. "I'll see you next weekend, Klaus," she says grudgingly, because he _was_ the host of this party, and she hadn't been born in a barn, before turning to leave.

"If not before!" he calls to her retreating back, sounding amused.

She hated that he was probably right about that.

* * *

They run into each other at the door to the parking garage. On Monday, less than 48 hours since she'd left his apartment. Klaus had taken the stairs, but she wasn't walking down eight flights in heels, no matter how slow the building's elevators were.

She's surprised to see him, at this time of day. Caroline's job, producing a morning news show, requires an indecently early wake up call. They've never run into each other before noon, that she can recall, in the three months she'd lived next door to him. Klaus is self-employed, and keeps weird hours. It's part of the reason why they'd clashed initially. He had a tendency to work late into the night, to lose track of time, and not realize that his music was still on.

Caroline had endured it for two weeks. Tried earplugs, and her own music. But she'd still been able to hear his through the thin wall that separated her bedroom from his place. Finally, unable to take it, she'd ended up banging on his door at midnight. She'd paused for a moment to register the fact that her, until then, unseen neighbor was incredibly attractive. He'd raised a brow, in the face of her silence, "Can I help you, love? It's late, and I'm busy, though you are a lovely surprise."

And something about him, the way he'd drawled the words, had set Caroline off. She'd taken a deep breath and had railed at him for being an inconsiderate dick.

He'd let her rant, calm as could be. Leaned against the doorframe, his eyes trained on her with great interest. When she'd run out of words, he'd held out a hand, "I'm Klaus. You must be my new neighbor? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Caroline had shaken his offered hand, somewhat wary, just a little out of breath, "I'm Caroline."

"I'll try to keep it down. My last neighbor an older gentleman, a bit hard of hearing, so I'm afraid my music was never a problem. And the woman on the other side is a nurse, works at night."

She'd just been starting to feel embarrassed, like maybe she'd overreacted, but then his eyes had drifted down, the appreciation in them unmistakably sexual.

And at that point she'd realized that, in her rage, and sleep deprived haze, she'd marched over to his place wearing very little. That the silky tank hid nothing, that the lace edged boyshorts showed a lot of leg. Caroline had felt her face flush, knew the redness was visible, and likely creeping down her neck. Klaus' grin had widened, tongue peeking out to wet his lower lip. He'd been about to say something, Caroline had been sure, but she'd spun on her heel and fled, before he'd had the chance.

She'd only barely caught his faint, "Night, Caroline. Be seeing you," before she'd escaped back into her apartment. At the time she hadn't been sure if it was a promise or a threat.

He'd teased her about it, the next time they'd seen each other. Greeted her with, "I hardly recognized you with your clothes on," when they'd shared an elevator. And maybe he'd followed it with a compliment, about how incredible she looked either way, but Caroline hadn't appreciated the reminder of making an ass of herself. She'd made a noise, low and disgusted, and pointedly stared at the numbers above the elevator door, pretending he didn't exist.

He'd been quiet afterwards on the ride up. Almost contemplative from what she'd seen, when she snuck glances at him from corner of her eye. Caroline had darted out of the elevator as soon as the crack in the doors was wide enough.

She'd resolved to avoid him like the plague, and it had been easy, for a couple of weeks. Until Caroline had been given definitive proof that the world really was too freaking small.

When she met her good friend Enzo's new girlfriend. Who was also Klaus' sister, Rebekah.

She hadn't known at first, because she'd only gotten Klaus' first name and it wasn't even the one his family used. The occasional references the other woman made to a 'Nik' went right over Caroline's head.

But then one night Rebekah had hosted a dinner party, her friends (and her brothers) and Enzo's. Caroline had shown up, bottle of wine and dessert in hand. Both of which she'd almost dropped when Klaus had opened the door.

He'd lit up, when he saw her, his quick reflexes the only thing that had saved the peach cobbler she'd been holding. "Do you know Rebekah, love?" He'd asked. "She does so hate to introduce me to her friends."

"Because I don't trust you not to try to sleep with them," Rebekah's voice had come from inside the apartment. "It's amazing how little taste some women have."

"Nonsense," Klaus had replied, his eyes on Caroline, "I'm an excellent catch."

An arm had been slung over his shoulder, a dark haired man leaning heavily on Klaus, eyeing her with intrigue, "But not nearly as handsome as I. Who's this tasty little thing?"

"This is Caroline," Klaus had replied, with a sharp elbow to the leering man's ribs. "And mind your manners."

"Caroline," the other man had drawled. "Why is that familiar?" Klaus had looked pained briefly, and then the man brightened, "Say, isn't that the name of your neighbor, Nik? The one with the naughty nightwear and the legs?" He'd punctuated it with a long slow perusal of Caroline's form. "Don't know if it's the same bird, but those legs are nothing to scoff at," he'd continued.

Caroline had grit her teeth, seriously considered turning and running. Enzo would forgive her, she was certain. Klaus had let out an aggravated sigh. "Please excuse my brother, love. I'm fairly tempted to murder him on a regular basis, but I'm afraid that would upset our mum."

"Kol Mikaelson, at your service," the stranger had introduced himself, bowing over her hand. "Tell me, darling, what does one need to do to get a peek at the tiny things you sleep in?"

Luckily (or not, since escape was then out of the question) Enzo had walked over, at that very moment, edged past the brothers in the doorway. "Gorgeous!" he'd greeted. "So glad you could make it. Let me take your coat."

Klaus had stepped forward, relieving her of the things in her arms, and hustled his brother away. It had been an effort to smile, to answer Enzo's polite inquiries about how her week had gone. She'd refused to look in Klaus' general direction, had done her best to avoid Kol too.

She silently seethed at the idea that Klaus had told his brother about what was maybe the most embarrassing incident of her adult life. And who knows who else he'd told? How many people were laughing at his stories of what a nutjob his neighbor was?

She'd switched her tactics, after that night. From willful avoidance to deep freeze. Klaus had seemed mystified, maybe a little hurt, at the change. But he'd adjusted, lobbying back when she sniped at him, with wit that she was grudgingly impressed, and occasionally amused, by.

Until that night at the bar. It had been the first time they'd spent more than a few minutes together, without supervision, since she'd pounded on his door in little more than her underwear.

And Caroline can't say that the time they'd spent together hadn't muddied things for her a little bit. Made her wonder if maybe Klaus wasn't as bad as she'd assumed. But she was only human, and several truly excellent orgasms would soften anyone, wouldn't they? It takes effort now, to keep up the pretense that she hates his guts.

Like now, where she almost finds herself smiling at him, has to fight the instinct. Which is completely unacceptable.

Klaus opens the door with a flourish, gesturing for her to go ahead. Caroline does, with a roll of her eyes. It was too early in the morning for Klaus' attempts at gentlemanly charm. "And how are you this morning, love?" he murmurs, as she passes.

"I'm fine, thank you. How are you?"

He blinks, like he's surprised she'd asked. "Wishing I was still in bed, to be honest. I've been commissioned for a portrait, and it seems as though the subjects one of those odd people who like to watch sunrises, wants it as the background."

Caroline finds herself smiling, at his seemingly genuine mystification, "Not my idea of a good time either. But a girl's gotta pay her bills."

He hums, flashes her a smile, as he walks towards his SUV, "Have a good day, Caroline."

She says, "You too!" automatically, unlocking her own vehicle. And she might still be thinking about him, as she drives away. But she chalks that up to the novelty of their interaction, the easiness of it. Klaus remains the worst. Period.

Even as Caroline repeats it like a mantra she'd not sure she believes it.

* * *

The knock on Saturday, at two in the afternoon, is unexpected. There'd been an invite slipped under her door earlier in the week (because she'd once again been avoiding Klaus like the plague, so he couldn't confuse her anymore) that stated that tonight's party began at eight. She'd expected him to drop by sometime around then, with whatever outfit he was planning on forcing her into.

She'd been cleaning out her refrigerator (because it needed it, not because she was stressed!) and she's sure she looks terrible, in her sweats and ponytail.

But hey, at least she's fully clothed.

When she throws the door open it's not actually Klaus on the other side but Rebekah. She's got a large box under one arm and a tote bag thrown over the other shoulder. She gives Caroline a small smile, "I've been drafted for hair and makeup."

Caroline steps back and Rebekah walks in setting her things on the table and shaking her arms out. Caroline's not sure what to say. She doesn't know Rebekah very well. The other woman's a little standoffish, and Caroline senses that she'd never really had much in the way of female friends. She's made an effort with Caroline, likely in an attempt to make Enzo happy. And Caroline can appreciate that, because Enzo does seem thoroughly besotted. It's both freaking adorable and kind of nauseating.

"You really don't have to, Rebekah," Caroline offers, as an out. "I'm sure I can manage. Did a couple beauty pageants when I was in high school so I know my way around a curling iron."

But Rebekah shakes her head, "No, it's not trouble. And trust me, you'll appreciate the hand. Plus, Nik'll owe me one, and he's ever so stingy with the favors. It's always nice to have one in the bank. Now, since he's awful, I'll wager he's not informed you of what you'll be wearing tonight, has he?"

Caroline feels a tiny prickle of dread, creep up her spine, "No. Why?"

Rebekah wrinkles her nose, "Let's just rip off the band aid, shall we?" She opens the box and steps back, and it takes Caroline a few moments to understand what she's seeing. There's little to the costume, bits of chain link, metal and a few pieces of fabric. "Now, I've read all the instructions. The underpart is rubber, so we'll need to heat it, and mold it to you. Possibly cut bits, but I've brought cutters for that."

Caroline looks at Rebekah, then back to the costume. Repeats the motion. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Rebekah sighs, "I'm afraid not."

"No. Freaking. Way," Caroline spits. She turns, about to storm over to Klaus' apartment, and tell him that _he_ can wear the freaking metal bikini, but Rebekah's quick, stepping in front of her, holding up her hands in a placating gesture, "If I might make a suggestion?"

Caroline clenches her teeth together, reminds herself that Rebekah can't help the gene pool from which she'd emerged, "Sure," she manages. "Why not?"

"Nik wants to provoke you. It's sort of a nasty habit of his. If you go over there, ready to give him hell, you'll be giving him exactly what he wants."

Caroline pauses to consider, turning her interactions with Klaus over in her head. There's a ring of truth to Rebekah's words. "Go on. I'm listening."

"Now, I'm not entirely sure what has happened between you two. Kol's got wild theories, but I tend to ignore most of what he says. In the interest of saving my sanity. But you've gotten under Nik's skin. He hardly seems to take his eyes off you, when you're in the same room. It drives him crazy, the way you ignore him."

"Ugh. Is he twelve?" Caroline grumbles, crossing her arms.

"Hardly," Rebekah says, cracking a smile. "Just not used to women refusing to fawn over him. Doesn't know how to act, I think."

"Well, for starters, he could've kept that time I completely humiliated myself _private_."

"Hmm," Rebekah murmurs, raising an interested brow. "I feel like there's more to that story. Why don't we move into your bathroom, and you can tell me all about what a wanker my brother is? I'd be happy to share a humiliating tidbit or two. To even the playing field. And when we're done he won't know what hit him."

Caroline cracks a smile, reaching to heave up the tote Rebekah had brought. She wasn't sure before, but she's totally going to end up liking Rebekah. A double-edged sword, because that meant she was extra stuck with Klaus.

* * *

After a very interesting afternoon, and half a bottle of wine, Caroline says goodbye to Rebekah. And then she waits approximately three seconds, before darting down the short span of hallway, between her apartment and Klaus'.

It's gratifying, the way his jaw drops, at the sight of her, in all her gold bikini-ed glory. Caroline had known she looked good, and it had been confirmed from the tiny, evil smirk Rebekah wore when they were finished. Almost makes how crazy uncomfortable the thing is, and the extra careful job she'd had to do shaving, worth it. "I want to see the painting," she tells him, sensing it'll take a minute for him to be able to form words.

He blinks and runs a hand through his hair, looking faintly embarrassed. Klaus tears his eyes away from her mostly bare torso, which seems to take some effort, "What painting?"

Caroline shoves him aside, and slips into his apartment. "The one that Kol saw. The one of me."

Klaus mutters something under his breath. Caroline doesn't catch it all, but it's not exactly complimentary of his brother. Klaus sighs, motions for her to follow him. In the opposite direction from what she'd expected. Away from her apartment. He leads her to a doorway, and pushes it open. There's tarps on the floor, canvases stacked on walls. Tubes of paint, and an insane amount of brushes, and various other paraphernalia that's purpose escapes her, organized neatly on shelves that take up most of one wall.

"I thought you painted on the other side of the apartment? The room that shares a wall with mine?"

"I did," Klaus tells her, walking over to a wall, sliding frames aside, "I switched my bedroom and studio, after…"

"After I ripped your head off for keeping me awake," Caroline finishes. "That's…" really sweet. And considerate. And she's starting to feel like an evil bitch.

But Klaus brushes it off, "Was no trouble, love. And here, this is it. I know I should've asked, but it just wouldn't leave my mind, so I painted it. And I never meant for it to be seen, but Kol's not really one to mind little things like privacy and found it."

Caroline's eyes widen, in surprise, at the painting in front of her. It's just her, standing in the hallway, lit from behind, her hair a wild mess and color high. She looks amazing in it, strong and determined and just a little sensual. "Wow," she breathes. "Rebekah said you were good, but it's beautiful."

"An easy thing, given the subject," Klaus says quietly.

She feels herself blushing again, turns her head to look at him, is not the least bit surprised to find he's watching her. Caroline bites her lip, "I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot," she starts hesitantly. "I was super embarrassed, when I realized that I marched over here half naked. And then when Kol knew about it... I just assumed I was a punchline in some raunchy joke."

Klaus sighs and shakes his head, "You were nothing of the sort, Caroline. I'm afraid I got quite angry, when Kol snooped. And he read in to it. It's probably why he was so gleeful, when he realized who you were."

Looking back at the painting, at the excellent likeness of her features, Caroline groans. "Oh, he totally knew, that dick."

"And delighted in making things difficult for me. It's something of a habit of his."

"I am so glad I'm an only child right now."

Klaus laughs softly, setting the painting aside. His hand grazes her back, and she jolts, at the feeling of his skin on hers. She's taken back, to what it had felt like to have his lips on her spine. Suddenly Caroline feels warm, despite her lack of clothing. Klaus' palm settles low, as he ushers her through the door, _not_ helping her temperature situation, "Do you want to sit and wait, while I finish getting dressed?"

Caroline grimaces, "Sitting's not really in the cards in this thing. Too many poky parts."

Klaus pauses, grips her arm and turns her to face him, "We don't have to go, Caroline. Honestly. I just wanted you to talk to me again, even if you were angry."

She considers the offer. And her childhood crush on Han Solo, which is surely Klaus' costume. And the fact that Kol is probably the brother Klaus was intent on beating at this costume party. Caroline leans back against the wall, lets her smile grow flirty, "No, I'm already in it. And it took a lot of work. Fair warning, I might need some help cutting it off later. Can I count on you, neighbor?"

Klaus' eyes widen, tracing down the barely concealed curves of her body reverently, "It would be my pleasure, love. So long as you let me take you to dinner tomorrow."

Caroline glares, but it's playful, "Sweetening the deal again?"

His dimples flash when he smiles, obviously pleased with himself, "Well, you have to admit it worked out well the last time."

She won't admit any such thing, not out loud. But she's no longer the least bit peeved about losing that poker game.

**Which Road (Part Two)**

**(A follow up to the Viking!Caroline and Klaus drabble in Chapter 26. Rated K+).**

It is far easier then Klaus had expected, in the end, to let Tatia go. She passes him several days after his conversation with Caroline, gives him the look he has come to covet, the one that means she wishes for him to follow her deep in to the woods, where they won't be disturbed. And he does so willingly. But he stills her wandering hands, when she presses him against a tree. Because there is a question he needs answered, one he's not stopped dwelling on.

"Have you been speaking to the other women in the village about us?"

She appears shocked for a moment, before her dark eyes turn wide and beseeching, "It is the way of women, Niklaus. I only want them to know that you are mine." Tatia presses her body into his, and perhaps once he would have been swayed by her tempting curves. By her lush mouth, so near the skin of his throat.

But not with Caroline's words ringing in his mind. She had told Klaus, with such conviction, that he deserved better, and maybe she was right. Tatia considered him hers, but did not allow him to claim her in the same manner. Expected devotion but did not return it. Klaus is not stupid, he is aware that he is not the only man who visits the woods with Tatia Petrova. He and Elijah do not speak of it, and Klaus has always hoped that she would choose him. But it has been months upon months, and still she dallies with them both.

"And if I asked you to be mine? Only mine. From now on?"

He watches her carefully, as he asks. Notes the tiny flickers that cross her face. The briefest instance of annoyance, a blink of shock. And then Tatia is all soft eyes and tempting smiles, "I need time, Niklaus. To make the best decision possible for my future. Surely you cannot begrudge me that? Not when we enjoy one another so."

He had hoped for a moment that her answer would be different. That Tatia _would_ choose him. The stab of disappointment is swift, and gut churning, but there is peace that comes after. He grasps her wrists, and steps aside, "I do not begrudge you that, Tatia. But I believe it may be time to consider my own future."

Klaus does not turn back, as he walks away. Not even when she calls after him, plaintive and dismayed. He feels lighter, with every step he takes.

* * *

Rebekah is the first to notice that something is different. She eyes him, narrow eyed and suspicious, for days before she corners him near the hearth, when the rest of the family is occupied. She speaks quickly, and quietly, "What has happened, Nik?"

He feigns confusion, "Nothing, sister. Why do you ask?"

Her face turns hard, "You have not been sneaking off, as you usually do. And Tatia Petrova has been giving me the blackest of looks at our every interaction, when before she was sugar sweet. Do you think me stupid?"

"Stupid, no. Meddlesome? Certainly." Rebekah scowls, but Klaus is unmoved. "It's none of your concern, Bekah. Truly."

"I will find out," she tells him threateningly, before she picks up the water buckets, and flounces outside.

Klaus helps himself to a bowl of stew, and a hunk of bread. He'll be kept busy in the stables for the remainder of the day, preparing the horses and supplies for a long journey. Mikael is leaving, heading south. It's an exploratory outing, to find new people to trade with. Elijah will accompany him this time, Finn being too busy courting a redhead from a nearby village. Kol will be going as well, which is considered a slight to Klaus by most.

But he does not mind. Is very much looking forward to Mikael's absence, and the small bit of breathing room it allows the family and Klaus in particular. Perhaps it is selfish, because his mother and Rebekah and Henrik worry. But Klaus cannot bring himself to feel guilt.

He has a plan brewing, has had little pieces of it coming together, ever since that night he had wandered out to the Forbes' land. And it will be easier to set in motion with his father not around to sabotage it.

If things go well Finn will not be the only Mikaelson introducing a bride to be to the family when they return from their voyage.

The first step of Klaus' plot requires Rebekah's assistance. Assistance that she cannot know she's providing. Klaus must be subtle, drop hints, steer her mind in the direction he needs it to go. He knows he has been successful, when she is up early one morning, speeding through chores she usually takes her time with.

"Why the haste, sister?" he asks innocently, holding back a smirk.

"I'm going to visit Caroline, after the mid-day meal. It has been ages since she's been able to come to town, and it will be even longer since harvest begins soon."

It's a trial, not to smile, at a job well done. "I will accompany you," he says firmly.

Rebekah shoots him an odd look, "Whatever for?"

He's already prepared a lie. "The full moon's in three days. There have been whispers of men from the wolves' village nearby. It may not be safe, Bekah. That small knife of yours will only do so much damage."

Rebekah's head whips to the side instinctively, checking that they are alone, "Hush, Nik. If father knew…"

Klaus makes a derisive noise, "As if I would break your confidence and tell _father_," he spits.

"I know," she says, relaxing somewhat. "He would just be so very angry with me. And with Caroline's mother. And likely Caroline. I couldn't bear it if he were to forbid me to see them, Nik."

"He will never hear it from me," Klaus vows. "I'll come and collect you later. Agreed?"

Rebekah doesn't look happy about it, and Klaus regrets infringing on her small freedoms, since she's allowed so few. But she nods. And Klaus leaves to complete his own duties.

* * *

Klaus is greeted with far less hostility this time, when he steps onto the property. The dogs seem pleased to see him and Rebekah both, barking happily and circling them with frantically wagging tails. Caroline sticks her head out of an upper level of one of the outbuildings, to check what the commotion is. She shades her eyes with a hand, and calls out questioningly, "Bekah?"

Rebekah waves, before turning to Klaus, and telling him dismissively, "You can go now, Nik. Collect me at supper, if you must continue to be overbearing." She strides towards Caroline without waiting for a reply.

Klaus thinks about admonishing her for her haughty tone, but he has another goal to complete. And it will be easier with both Rebekah and Caroline occupied.

He needs to find Caroline's mother, because Klaus has things he wishes to discuss with her.

* * *

It's not difficult to find Elizabeth Forbes. The farmhand Klaus had spoken to had given Klaus her direction without asking questions. She's in one of the larger barns, and looks up when he enters. A fleeting look of surprise crosses her face, and she says a few quiet words to the man who she'd been in discussion with, before coming to meet Klaus. She looks puzzled, and Klaus introduces himself, just to be on the safe side. She wouldn't be the first person to mistake him for one of his brothers, despite the fact that all are darker than he. "My name is Niklaus. I am…"

"Son of Mikael and Esther. Rebekah's older brother. You also had supper with my daughter, unsupervised, not long ago."

It has been years since Klaus has felt his face heat, but the arch look he's favored with changes that. "I did," Klaus confirms, dipping his head. "She was kind enough to offer. I meant no harm."

There is the slightest softening, and when Caroline's mother speaks again it's with a note of fondness, "Caroline said as much, when she told me of it. And I believe her. My daughter is not one to take slights kindly."

Klaus finds himself smiling, remembering the way Caroline had pushed back, and unable to conceal her fire in the face of his doubtful inquiries, for all that she was attempting to be agreeable. He remembers himself, and his purpose, when he finds Elizabeth Forbes' gaze has turned measuring. Klaus clears his throat. "She is certainly spirited."

"Some men wouldn't use that term in a complimentary manner, when speaking of a young woman. Your father amongst them."

"I am not my father," Klaus states firmly.

Klaus thinks he detects the faintest glimmer of respect, in Elizabeth Forbes' eyes. "Why have you sought me out, Niklaus?" she asks knowingly. And he realizes she must have had this conversation before.

He straightens, and speaks seriously, "I would like your permission to court your daughter."

She has no reaction for a long moment, her head tipping to the side, "You have lived in the village your entire life, is that true?"

It's not the question he'd been expecting. "Yes," he confirms. "My family moved here just before I was born."

"What do you know of running a farm?"

"Little," Klaus admits. "But I would learn."

She nods, like the answer had pleased her. "Next week. Come and work. I usually don't hire village boys, but we shall see how you do. Perhaps you will decide this is not the life for you. You will earn a fair wage, either way."

She turns to leave. "And if I do well?" Klaus ventures.

"Then you will have to speak with Caroline. It would be her life tied to yours. I think she should get a say, would you not agree?"

Klaus has to admit he has never really thought about it. He's a grown man, in the eyes of the village, capable of taking this action on his own. He knows that his father would not seek Rebekah's counsel, when it came time to choose his sister's husband.

But Klaus did not wish to group himself with his father in any matter. And had Caroline not shown that she knew her own mind, could read his accurately even, in their last conversation? Surely she knows what she wants in a husband better than her mother could.

"I will be here when harvest begins," Klaus vows.

Caroline's mother lets out a laugh, "I think you will find the work the least of your challenges, Niklaus."

Klaus isn't certain what she means, or of the source of her amusement. But with his plan in motion he's even more determined to find out.

* * *

Klaus wakes before the sun rises, on the day he's due to begin work at the Forbes' farm. It is cold, his breath visible as he trudges out of the village. He had told his mother and Finn what he'd be doing, had been met with surprise and disapproval. But neither had tried to dissuade him. Not that such an attempt would have been successful.

He makes good time, walking quickly to keep warm. He seems to be one of the first to have arrived and he pauses, not sure where he should go. The front door of the Forbes' home opens, and Caroline bustles out, a large pot gripped in her hands. She sees him immediately, and stumbles, liquid splashing onto the worn leather boots she wears. He's surprised at her clothing, the wool trousers and tunic, having never seen her in anything but a dress.

"Niklaus," she greets, her face open with surprise. "What brings you here?"

"Work," he answers, moving closer. "And you, Caroline."

She swallows, busies herself with setting down her burden, "My mother mentioned that you spoke with her."

"Did you think I would change my mind?"

Caroline whirls back towards the house, her steps determined, and Klaus follows. Her tone is brisk, "You have been obsessed with one woman, and one woman only, for ages now. One far more beautiful than I. I doubted a single conversation would change your mind. Thought it was just a passing fancy, that Tatia would ensnare you once again."

She doesn't look at him when she speaks, rummaging around and gathering cups. Klaus takes a stack from her hands. "And within that conversation, love, you proved that you know me better than most. Tell me, am I the sort of man who makes decisions lightly?"

Caroline still refuses to glance in his direction, and once again Klaus finds himself at her heels. He's dismayed to realize that they're no longer alone, that several men have shown up, and are milling about. Caroline smiles at them, and Klaus is less then pleased to note the way several eyes follow her movements covetously. Caroline seems oblivious, handing out cups and instructing the farmhands to help themselves to the warmed buttermilk in the pot.

Her fingers brush his when she hands him one, her blue eyes finally meeting his. She pauses, for several long moments, and Klaus reads the swirl of confusion in her expression without trouble.

And he vows to make his intentions perfectly clear before the end of the day.

* * *

It is backbreaking work but Klaus finds he does not hate it. There is something satisfying about watching the piles of grain grow, to know that it will be what feeds him, his family, and their village in the cold months to come. His body aches and he knows he will sleep well tonight, wonders if his mother will deign to make him some sort of remedy.

Elizabeth Forbes favors him with a nod of approval before she disappears into the house, after dismissing all the workers for the day.

Caroline lingers, tired and covered in dust. She's loosened her hair from the tight braids it had been caught up in and it's bright in the fading light. She's biting her lip, and her brows are furrowed. Every so often she opens her mouth. Klaus waits patiently knowing that she will only be able to swallow her words for so long. It's with a deep breath, and a forceful exhale that she finally cracks, "Why?" she blurts out. "Why me?"

Klaus grins, because it's an easy question to answer, "Because I had not noticed that you had grown up, Caroline. And once I really looked at you I found I did not want to look away. You are beautiful and lively and so very strong. Everything I could ever want."

She appears stunned for a moment, before she shakes her head and laughs. "I'm nothing special. I talk too much and I'm too free with my opinions. It's a good thing my mother can afford servants, because I burn everything I attempt to cook. You could do better in a wife."

Klaus steps forward, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He traces her jaw with his fingertip, nudging her chin up, "And you are the only person who would think that. I want you, Caroline. Your words and your mind and your heart."

"I…" she stutters for a moment, before her eyes shift to the side. She makes a noise of distress, grabbing his hand and pulling it up to her face to examine it. It's littered with little cuts and scrapes he'd gotten from the rough stalks and occasionally sharp leaves he had been handling all day. "These need to be cleaned," she tells him, just a touch scolding. "Honestly, Niklaus. Your mother's a healer. You should know better."

She's pulling him around back before he can tell her that the wounds are nothing, leading him to a well and pinning him with a demanding look. "Wait here," she tells him. "I'll be back in a moment."

She darts away, heading towards the house. Klaus pulls up a bucket of water, guessing her aim. She'll not be happy about it, but he's truly not injured, has long since adjusted to the pulling and mild stinging of his cracked skin. He's weathered far worse pain, after all.

Sure enough she glares at the water he's raised and at him in turn, her lips pressed together. "Sit down," she instructs, in a tone that tells Klaus she'll accept no arguments. He lowers himself to the ground, leaning against the stone of the well. She seats herself beside him, and takes his hand again, setting it one her thigh.

And Klaus is distracted for a moment, by her warmth. It's a struggle not to flex his fingers, to test the feel of her, with only a layer of fabric separating her skin from his. She's gentle, and careful, rubbing away dirt with a soft scrap of fabric. She's gathered her hair over one shoulder, and he itches to reach out and touch the bared skin of her neck, to know if it's as soft as the rest of her. He lets out a hiss, because he'd not noted her opening a jar, coating her fingers in some sort of salve, and spreading it on his skin. It's cool and tingles faintly but feels pleasant after a moment. But perhaps that's just her hands rubbing it into his flesh.

"It will get better, if you continue," she tells him absently, focused on her work. "The skin will toughen, won't break so easily."

"I plan to," Klaus says. "I'll be a proper farmer by the end of the week."

Caroline bites her lip, but Klaus sees the smile around the edges. "I guess we will see."

It is an opening, one Klaus is thrilled by. He's determined that she _will_ see. That Caroline will come to understand that he's serious about wanting her, firm in his plans to court her. He senses it will be a challenge, and he understands what her mother had meant with that final, cryptic remark. But Klaus had never shied away from difficulties, and he'll not start now. Not when the end goal is Caroline, her warmth and her tenderness, and all her endless light.

**Oh How Strange (Part Three)**

**(Crack fic. The continuing adventures of Caroline and WerewolfPuppy!Klaus. Part One found in the final third of Chapter 11. Part Two found in the second half of Chapter 19. Rated K+).**

Caroline knows she needs to get up. She's got a list, and it isn't exactly short. But her bed's so warm and cozy. And once she gets out of it she's diving right back into a situation fraught with awkwardness. And danger, but she's totally used to that. The possibility of being tortured by hostile witches barely phases her.

The conversation she needs to have with Klaus, before they leave her apartment? Yeah, that's gonna be terrible.

Maybe it'll be better if they have it here. Casual was good, right? She'd let the fact that he snuck into her bed slide, maybe he'd keep the disdain to a minimum, out of gratitude.

Caroline _had_ always been an optimist.

She rolls over, on to her side, and Klaus' tail twitches but his eyes don't open. Seems she wasn't the only one who was a fan of lazy mornings in bed. Although, if he wasn't currently cursed into tiny furry body she imagines she'd have woken up very differently. She shoves the thought away quickly, refusing to dwell on it. It's entirely possible Klaus' senses are still hyper sensitive, and thinking naughty thoughts was strictly a no no when he might be able to pick up the scent of her arousal.

She tucks the covers more firmly around her body. Just in case.

Caroline lays her hand on his head. Is unable to resist running it down his back. He doesn't seem to mind, shifts closer, his eyes opening to look at her. Caroline smiles brightly and clears her throat, "Morning! So, a couple things. First, before we tackle everything we need to get done, so we can leave tomorrow, I need to go see Bonnie. And you need to stay here while I do it."

Klaus does not seem to appreciate that, letting out a huff and standing tall. Well, as tall as he's able. He even shakes his head. Caroline sits up, making an effort to seem reasonable, "She's my friend and she's not going to hurt me. And I won't tell her what happened to you, I promise. But I was thinking that she might know of some way to mask that I'm a vampire. Or at the very least have something that'll say, 'Hey, I'm friends with a Bennett witch, so I'm cool, and you don't need to make my brain explode.' Because aneurysms suck and some witches are so touchy about the whole vampire thing."

Klaus lets out another agitated noise – more of a threat of a growl then an actual growl - his little body stiff. "And you can't come with, unless you want her to see you like this. She'll know I didn't just randomly decide to get a dog. Because I'm me. And that's the sort of commitment that requires a ton of research. And who knows, maybe she'll do something witchy, and one touch and she'll know there's an evil hybrid under all that cute."

He bares his teeth, and Caroline rolls her eyes. "Oh, relax. I don't think you're totally evil anymore. But Bonnie does." She hesitates, biting her lip, because the next part was a tiny bit stickier. "I was hoping that you'd agree to help out a little, with what's going on with Elena. Bonnie won't want to help you, and I could make something up, about what I need whatever magical doohickey she'll whip up for. But then there's always the possibility that she'll demand to tag along, thinking I'm in danger. And I try not to lie to her anymore."

He's settled down, sometime during her rant. Sitting on her bed, looking far too serious for his current form. He makes a quick jerk of his head, and Caroline assumes it's a nod. But it never hurts to make sure, with Klaus. She holds out her hand. "Was that a yes? Tap my hand for yes."

He heaves a tiny sigh, and does so.

Caroline beams at him. "Thank you, Klaus."

He manages another nodding motion, and pads to the end of the bed. He leaps down and Caroline winces, worried in spite of herself. Her bed was tall, and he was pretty little. She didn't want him to hurt himself. Both because she could admit that she cared about him, and because the idea of taking Klaus to a vet, the thought of kind of tests that a vet would have to run, is completely horrifying.

Caroline was certain there would be no saving that veterinarian, no matter that the person would have simply been doing their job. Klaus would murder them, simple as that. His dignity could only take so many hits.

She peeks over the end of the bed and is relieved to find that Klaus is fine, steady on all four paws, waiting with an air of impatience. How he manages that Caroline has no idea. Throwing back the covers she gets up, and walks to her bedroom door. Klaus motions for her to go ahead, his nose cold on her calf, old world manners intact, evidently still believing in ladies first.

Caroline walks to the kitchen, busies herself with setting up the coffee and putting down a bowl of water for Klaus. He waits until her eyes are averted, until she's rummaging in the refrigerator for a blood bag, before he starts to drink.

She feels a pang of sympathy, and a little flare of anger. Honestly, it's entirely possible that whatever witch had cast this spell had a legitimate grudge. But would a little sportsmanship be too much to ask for? Honor amongst adversaries, or whatever? Try to kill Klaus? Fine, he was used to that. But this? Kind of uncalled for, in her opinion. Caroline couldn't feel bad about the extra painful death Klaus had in store for whoever was remotely connected to the plan that had resulted in his predicament.

She moves slowly, listening until he's done. "Are you hungry?" she asks. "Josh said you've been eating regular food. Not sure that's good for you, but I'll add that to my research pile. And I doubt you'll be like this for long enough for it to matter."

She hopes not anyway. It's become slightly easier, carrying on this one way conversation. She's learning to read his facial expressions, imagines what he'd say. Really wants to _not_ have to imagine anymore.

Klaus nudges the leg of one of her dining room chairs and Caroline assumes that means yes, he'd like to eat. She lifts him onto it the table and he promptly lies down. She begins pulling eggs out of the refrigerator. "You're lucky," she tells him. "Breakfast I can do. Other meals, not so much. Except dessert. My brownies would blow your mind."

She works quickly and has a hashbrown casserole in the oven in minutes. She figures it'll be easier for him to eat. Sitting down in the chair across from him Caroline braces herself for the second thing they need to discuss. The one that's even worse than the first.

Caroline takes a deep breath and leans down, propping her head on her forearm so they're nearly eye to eye. "Okay, I'm going to need you to listen to this next part and not freak out. I get that this whole thing sucks. And honestly, you're probably dealing better then I would've." And far better than she had anticipated, once the reality had set in after Rebekah's phone call.

Klaus looks wary but his ears are perked up so she knows he's listening. "When we're out in public," she says evenly, holding his gaze, "I'm going to need you to act like you're an actual dog."

He does not take that well. He gets to his feet, fur bristling, tail making angry slashes. Caroline grimaces, and holds up her hand. "Just hear me out, okay? You don't want anyone to know what's happened, right? For a whole host of reasons, not the least being that right now you're kind of less indestructible and not nearly as capable of ripping out a heart if someone looks at you the wrong way."

He's relaxed, if only the slightest, taking in her words. Caroline presses on. "Me, talking to you like I actually think you understand me, is the opposite of inconspicuous. People love to rubberneck at crazies. We're laying low and any attention we draw is a bad idea, right? We can't know how many people know about this spell, know you're under it."

He lets out a soft bark, clearly not happy, but perhaps seeing her point. Klaus was a strategist, two steps ahead of everyone else. A guy who always had plans A through G. And a fan of sneaking up on people. It had been the whole reason for the Alaric body swap. He liked the advantage that came when people didn't see him coming.

"I will do my very best," Caroline promises, "to make it easy. I will physically throw myself in front of people who want to pet you. I will buy you the most badass collar Petco sells. And I will remove it the minute we're in private. I will not take a single photo or video. And I swear that once this is done we _never_ have to speak about any of it again, okay? Vegas rules."

He's wavering, she thinks. He had trusted her. She just needs him to trust her a little bit more. "And I'm not saying we can't communicate. We'll work out a system because, like I said, hunting enemies is clearly more your bag then mine. It just has to be subtle. And, you know, reasonably puppy-like."

She holds her breath, watching him carefully. Klaus concedes with the barest twitch of his nose up and down. Caroline exhales with a woosh, slumping back in her chair. She'd been prepared for a tantrum, figured she'd have to sacrifice a table leg or two to Klaus' teeth. And maybe that was still coming. Him agreeing, grudgingly at that, was very different from them going out, and him being forced into the role of house pet.

Still, it was a tiny victory. And it would help move their aims forward. The sooner Klaus was back in his usual body the better.

For her and for him.


	35. Day Two - Klaroline Valentine's Weekend

**Notes: **The things I posted for Day Two of kcvday. The theme was smut.

**The Cure For This (Part Two)**

**(A follow up to the sex pollen drabble found in the first half of Chapter 25).**

They break the bed the first time he's inside of her.

Caroline maintains that it was 90% Klaus' fault. She might have had her hands braced against the wall, rocking into his motions, but _he_ was the one doing the actual thrusting that snapped the legs off. Later, at checkout, he doesn't argue when she sheepishly apologizes to the elderly couple that own the small motel. He lets out a long suffering sigh and drops a stack of bills on the counter at her pointed look. Really, it was the least he could do, considering he was totally responsible for the dent in the wall too. And okay, fine, she _might_ have been the one who'd broken off the edges of the bathroom counter. But what's a little outdated tile to actual structural damage? It's not like she'd bent herself over the sink, had she?

Klaus' face had been priceless, the open look of shock at the sharp crack of wood and the bed tipping to the side. He'd been thrown off of her but had managed to catch his balance quickly, landing on his feet. Caroline hadn't been quite so lucky, had slid off the edge and landed with a thump on her side on the floor.

Hey, she'd been under the influence of a weird sex stimulant, and halfway to a really good orgasm. Excuse her if her vamp reflexes were a little duller than usual.

That orgasm had taken priority over a silly little thing like comfort. And the sight of Klaus standing above her, cock hard and wet with their combined arousal, had sent a wicked stab of lust through her. "Get down here," she'd gritted out, rolling onto her back and reaching out for him.

Klaus had acquiesced immediately, dropping to his knees, his hands parting her thighs wide before he'd slammed back inside of her.

And it was a good thing that the sex pollen didn't mess with healing abilities. Because the carpet under her back was really freaking scratchy.

* * *

She quickly loses track of how many times she'd come. And time itself had become pretty meaningless, before Klaus had even arrived. She'd been too focused on what was happening to her, trying to block out the slowly building discomfort that only eased for a few moments after an infusion of blood. The relief had been muted, with every subsequent bag, the pinpricks under her skin refusing to be dulled.

She doesn't want to think about how bad it would have gotten. She'd drained the last bag shortly before Klaus' arrival.

They'd shoved the ruined frame into a corner at some point, laid the mattress on the floor. It's bare, the sheets having been torn in an early round. Caroline's sprawled half on top of Klaus, her thigh stretched across his, and he's got one arm wrapped underneath her and a palm running up and down her back.

She feels the faint stirrings of need, despite the fact that it's only been minutes since the last round, knows it won't be long until the simple contact of his skin on hers isn't enough anymore. But the craving is manageable, for now, and Caroline feels clearer headed then she has since this whole thing started.

"What time is it?" she mumbles, dragging her lips against his collarbone.

Klaus' head tips back and he stretches an arm out, snagging the leg of his discarded jeans. He pulls them over and digs his phone out of his back pocket. He swipes the screen and taps a few times before he turns it so she can see the display.

Caroline blinks at it for a moment stupidly. Because it's felt like days but it's only been about eleven hours since she and Bonnie and Enzo had returned to the motel after their adventure in the forest. She drops her head to his chest with a groan. "Seriously? I thought it had been longer. How'd you even get here so fast?"

"Luckily, I wasn't all that far," Klaus tells her, his hand delving under her hair to stroke the nape of her neck. "I've been attending to some business in Buenos Aires for several weeks."

His fingertips are distracting, raising goosebumps on her skin. Her lips part as she takes a deep breath, trying to focus. "I hope I didn't screw anything up for you."

But Klaus seems unbothered. "Elijah was on route to take over immediately. No harm done, love."

Caroline nods, dragging her hand down his stomach. She scrapes her nails over his lower belly, watches his jaw tighten in reaction, before taking his cock in her hand. She's leisurely about it, pumping him slowly as he swells. He makes no move to stop her, eyes darkening as he watches her face, "I thought things were supposed to be about you?" he asks, voice thick.

"It will be," she replies. And soon, the ache between her thighs growing more insistent with each twitch of him against her palm. Caroline's never been especially selfish about sex. She likes to get off but giving turns her on too, watching a guy writhe and jerk under her hands or mouth. There's a power in it, all the more potent when it's Klaus. His lips are wet and reddened, and his inhales just getting ragged when she can't take it anymore, rearing up and straddling him.

He moves to sit up but she shoves him back down, her hand firm on his chest. His eyes spark but he reclines, hands coming up to rest on her thighs. His fingers dig into the muscle when she positions him at her entrance, his head dropping back when she slides slowly down his length. Caroline moans when her hips are pressed against his, her body clamping down on his cock. Klaus shudders underneath her, tense and straining, and Caroline finds her eyes drawn to the pale expanse of his throat, the faint flutter of his pulse behind his skin.

Caroline's gums hurt briefly as her fangs drop. Klaus' eyes flash gold when he notices, his head tipping to the side in a silent invitation. She shakes her head and starts to move, rolling her hips so her clit catches on his pubic bone each time she drops down. She pries his hand off her leg, pulling his wrist to her mouth as she moves faster. She doesn't warn him before digging her fangs into it, sucking greedily at the blood that spills out. He hisses out her name, back arching. She feels his knees come up behind her and then he's pushing back, driving up into her, hard and fast and so, so good.

His blood spills, warm drops of in hitting her skin, dripping down. She usually prides herself on being tidy, not leaving a drop of evidence of her meals. But Klaus' eyes burn, tracing the tracks his blood makes down her body, expletives pushed out from between clenched teeth. The sight's almost too much, Klaus letting her _take_ him, coupled with him moving inside of her. Caroline throws her head back with a hoarse moan, eyes clenching shut, wanting it to last just a little bit longer. A few more rough grinds against him and she can't hold on, shattering and calling his name as she trembles.

It takes her a minute to realize that he's stilled, that he hasn't followed her over the edge. He's still hard, and he remains taut beneath her, barely breathing. Caroline rolls her head forward, with some effort, looks down at him questioningly. He grins, fangs out, his expression a dark promise that sends a new rush thrumming through Caroline's veins.

Something tells her that Klaus won't be content to let her do most of the work very often.

He moves quickly and she grips his shoulders with a yelp but soon finds herself on her back. He's still buried inside of her and she squirms, the fullness of him pressing up against her sensitive walls. She wants more contact, wants the scrape of his cock lighting up her nerves. She's too preoccupied with the sensation to pay much attention, Klaus easily arranging her limbs. She's nestled between his stretched out legs, as he sits upright, her knees raised and feet planted next to his hips, when he drawls, "Caroline." His voice is low with a tiny undercurrent of a taunt to it, demanding her attention.

He pins her hips, just before she tries to move, and she lets out a tiny, frustrated whine at being thwarted, reaching out and digging her nails into the side of his thigh. That only makes his eyes darken, turn a touch more feral, in a way that has her fighting a shudder. She struggles against his hold but it's useless, his grip is iron and unyielding. He makes a noise and it's a gentle admonishment. She lets out a huff, "What happened to this being all about me?" she complains, unable to help how breathless and throaty it comes out.

Klaus' lips curl in response, his hands shifting. One presses against her stomach, keeping her immobile, while the other lowers, delving into her fold to let his index finger tease her clit. She lets out a gasp, her knees dropping to the side, a silent plead for more. But Klaus keeps the contact light, barely brushing over the throbbing bundle, still refusing to allow her hips much movement. "Oh, it is, sweetheart. But now that we've taken the edge off, I think it's time to play a little."

She closes her eyes, biting her lip, fighting not to let her body react to the words. It's unfair how much they turn her on, the temptation in his gravelly voice. Her eyes snap open when his fingers abruptly stop teasing her, and she knows her gaze is accusatory. He lets out a soft chuckle, brings his fingers to his mouth and lets out an appreciative hum as he tastes her.

It makes her body clench down around him and his eyes flutter briefly. "Fine," she gasps out. "Define play."

That infuriating smirk remains as Klaus grabs her hand, draws it between their bodies, before he leans back. "Don't move yet, love. I want you to touch yourself for me. _Play_ with your clit and your nipples. Show me how you like it."

Her breath leaves her in a rush, and she feels herself grow hotter and wetter and the dirty demand alone pushes her one step closer to coming, without a single new point of contact. Her fingers move almost without her permission, reaching down to toy with her clit, the other coming up to her breast and rolling her sensitive nipple.

"You've done a pretty decent job of guessing how I've liked it so far."

His eyes focus on her fingers rubbing her clit, tongue making a slow sweep of his lower lip.

"Yes, well. I'm not the sort to be content with decent. I want to be the one you think about when you come, Caroline. I want my name on your lips when you're alone in the dark, with your fingers buried in your hot little body. Perhaps then you'll come and find me sooner."

She moves faster, and lets her fingers slide down teasingly, circling the base of his cock, the inch or so that's not inside of her. Klaus lets out a groan, favors her with a warning look. She lets her lips form a pout, strives to sound innocent, "It's not usually my fingers, Klaus. It's the twenty-first century. Vibrators are so much more efficient."

It's a victory when he shifts, jolting just a tiny bit. Gratifying, because she want him to think of her too. And from the look on his face she knows that he will.

But quitting while she's ahead isn't really her thing. She's still Caroline Forbes, and completely incapable of not pushing back in her interactions with Klaus. Leaving the stiff peak of her nipple, she brings her fingers to the blood that dripped when she drank from him, coating her fingers with it and sucking first one then the other into her mouth. She holds his eyes as she pulls it out, her cheeks hollowing around the digit.

He looks hungry, covetous. The tendons on his neck are visible, the muscles in his chest tight. His control's fraying, just not as fast as hers.

It might be the hardest thing she's ever done, resisting the urge to move her hips. She's got her back arched at an angle that's almost uncomfortable, fingers frantically working her clit, getting rougher and rougher as the tension builds. She's so close when Klaus snatches her hand away. "Klaus," she moans, high pitched and needy. "Don't be mean."

"Me? Never," he replies roughly. Right before his hands span her ribcage and haul her up into his lap.

It's a blur after that. She wraps her legs around his hips and his hands are on her ass, rocking their bodies together forcefully. He licks his blood off her skin, humming appreciatively, wraps his lips around her nipple. The scrape of his teeth has her keening, digging her fingers into his hair.

"Klaus. More," she finds herself pleading. It's effective, his thumb pressing hard on her clit the next moment, sending her spiraling. He lets himself go this time, hips driving erratically up into her fluttering body, a hoarse cry muffled against her breast.

She finds herself smiling, as she catches her breath, raking her hand through his hair. "I think I liked that game," she murmurs.

She feels an answering smile against his skin. "I've plenty more in mind, love. Don't you worry."

* * *

Caroline's once again lost track of time. The gaps between flares of need seem to be lengthening (if only slightly) and she's on her stomach, Klaus' hands working magic against the muscles of her back. Something Enzo had said earlier comes back to her, and she twists her head to look at Klaus, "So this isn't your first rodeo with this stuff, is it?"

Klaus shakes his head and when he speaks he sounds amused. "No. Elijah discovered the plant that's afflicted you sometime in the late nineteenth century. Was less then pleased about it, as you can imagine. Kol experimented with it quite extensively, for recreational purposes."

"Huh," Caroline mutters, digesting that. "Any ideas how long can I expect to be desperately horny?"

"I'm honestly not entirely sure, love," Klaus tells her, a note of apology in his tone. "You're still a fairly new vampire, and from what I've heard inhaled a great deal of the pollen. You should feed soon, I think. See if it's helpful."

She stiffens under him. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," she says hesitantly. "I don't want to hurt anyone. It's why I had Bonnie spell me into the room." She drank from the vein occasionally but did her best to heal and compel. And it didn't seem smart to risk an accident in such a small town. And she hates the look on Bonnie's face, the judgement when she thinks Caroline's slipped.

"I know. I won't let you."

He means it, Caroline knows, so she relaxes, luxuriates in his touch. "Then what?" she asks.

"We'll return here. You'll come for me some more," Klaus informs her lightly. "I want to taste you again."

It sends a pulse through her and Caroline's thighs move to press together, but Klaus is knelt in between them so there's no relief in the action. But he notes it, and leans back, pulling her up to her knees.

His cock teases her, running along her folds. She buries her face in her pillow to muffle the moan it rips from her. Klaus leans over her back, his hand winding into her hair to tug her head to the side, "None of that, love. I want to hear you. The sounds you make when I fuck you are truly delightful."

She glares at that but her annoyance is forgotten when he pushes inside of her. He continues speaking, "Another dozen or so orgasms should do it I think. We'll have enough time to move to more comfortable accommodations. I've people securing us something and we'll stay there until the stimulant's been worked out of your system. Somewhere with a proper bed."

She's about to ask him another question, curious about what comes later, maybe make a jab about what a snob he is. How will they say goodbye, once she's no longer a sex crazed danger to society? Does she want it to be like before, where he'd left her alone and she'd tried so hard not to think about what he was up to?

But he begins to move, setting a firm rhythm, his hand sneaking under her to rub her clit. Caroline loses her words, her heavy thoughts melting away. Her hands tear into the pillow as groans spill from her lips, arms shaky and barely supporting her.

And soon her mind is filled with nothing but him, his voice in her ear, and his body pressed to hers, time once again slipping away until 'later' doesn't really matter anymore.

**Your Skin Speaks Up**

**(Prompt: ****"Mistaken identity and now things are weird" Klaroline AU. Inspired by a Lisa Kleypas historical romance in which the heroine is depressed about turning 30 so she hires an escort. Only he turns out to be her new boss. Title from 'Deep' by NIN. Smut.)**

Later, looking back on the incident and cringing, Caroline blames the booze. Because she had been _drunk_. Drunker then drunk. Completely and totally wasted.

More so then she'd been in at least a decade. And the time she'd previously reached that level of intoxication had involved a cocktail heavy on the absinthe, recommended by a smirky vampire whose name she'd never caught. He'd been kind of a perv but a lot of fun (completely non sexual fun. Making your intro using the words 'tasty little thing' was not endearing, in Caroline's book).

Thank god her liver could heal itself.

She'd taken the first shot to work up a little courage to make the call, starring at the number on the card that Gia had slipped her.

Fun fact about New Orleans: it catered to _all_ of a vampire's needs. Not just sustenance.

Apparently there was a discrete little escort service that had been running for centuries. Caroline probably wouldn't have been told about it, being so new to the city. But Gia had connections to the Mikaelson's, the vampires who ran the city's supernatural affairs. And she'd taken a shine to Caroline, having heard her singing along to an old song on the radio in the little shop that they'd both been rummaging in.

Caroline's current occupation, interior decorator, meant she spent a lot of time on her own, so her social life had been pretty nonexistent since her move. It wasn't exactly challenging work, brain wise. But a lot of fun and an excuse to shop, check out off the beaten path second hand stores, to see what treasures she could unearth. And fine, maybe she bought a few too many things for herself. But she had three residences at the moment and she was only 113 years old. Who knew how many places she'd have to decorate by the time she hit the big two – oh – oh?

Meeting Gia had been a stroke of luck. They'd become fast friends, finding they had much in common. Turned within years of each other they'd both run away from small towns (though Gia as a human and Caroline as a brand new vampire once she'd found that the sleepy little hamlet of Mystic Falls, Virginia was far from welcoming of her kind). Caroline found out that Gia had been turned in New Orleans, just a few years after Caroline herself had been, and had used the city as a home base ever since. She knew all about how supernatural politics worked in the city, though she'd had little patience for the pretentiousness of it. "Have you met the 'king' yet?" she'd asked one afternoon, the title said with a derisive roll of her eyes.

Caroline's eyebrows had crept up in confusion, "What king?"

"He runs this place. Has forever. He's a little mellower now then he was a century ago."

That certainly sounded foreboding.

Perhaps reading Caroline's unease Gia had rushed to reassure her. "It's really not that bad. Follow the rules and you'll be fine. I'm sure you'll get his summons before too long."

Caroline had, of course, grilled Gia on the rules she was supposed to be following. They were simple enough and she could see the logic in them, how they'd keep vampires hidden and allow them to live without pesky questions from human authorities.

That didn't mean she was entirely sure about the 'king' business Gia had mentioned.

It was another of her and Gia's conversations that had led to Caroline's current state of drunkenness. The other woman had been aghast to find out that Caroline had been single for more years then she'd cared to remember, and celibate for going on ten months. "That's just not normal," she'd said, wide eyed and shaking her head. "How have you survived?"

And it's not like Caroline had been happy with the state of events. But she'd been touring a particularly unpopulated corner of South America. Certain sacrifices had needed to be made. Gia had been joking when she'd offered Caroline the card. It was simple, no business name. A deep burgundy color with a phone number printed in black.

And at first Caroline's reaction had been a hard no. She was forever seventeen and pretty damn hot, thank you very much. Finding a guy interested in taking her to bed had never been a problem. But the idea lingered, in the back of her mind. What would be the harm? She wasn't sure if she was staying or leaving NOLA. She'd never lived in a place with so many vampires, had yet to decide if the benefits outweighed the downsides. She could have a fling with a random vampire but that might make things awkward, if she decided to stay. No one likes to be haunted by a one night stand.

A couple of days later she'd caved and asked for the card. Gia had grinned, and handed it over, sing songing, "Have fu-un!" as Caroline had left with it tucked away in her bag.

And staring at her phone, thumb hovering over the keypad, one shot of truly excellent tequila had turned into two. Then three. And then she'd downed the entire bottle before dialing. The voice that answered had been a woman, her drawl southern, sweet and courteous. She'd been polite enough to ignore Caroline's slurring as she answered questions about her preferences.

A man. Attractive but not too pretty. And that's about as far as she'd gotten before floundering. The woman had rattled off a list of options that had made Caroline feel distinctly warm, even if she'd turned them all down. Better to keep it basic for the first time, and file things like 'roleplay' and 'spelled restraints' away for later contemplation.

She'd been quoted a price that made her wince, and mentally resolve to hustle up a new client or two. But she'd agreed, and been told to expect a visit from a 'Jack' within the hour.

Which had led to a minor freak out and an unsteady dash to her closet. Just because she was paying for it didn't mean her bra shouldn't be cute.

There'd been a knock on her door when she was still naked and debating between black lace and purple silk, less then fifteen minutes from the moment she'd hung up the phone.

Geez, those people did not screw around.

Caroline shrugged, tossing her lingerie options back into the drawer, and slipping on her slinkiest robe. Maybe it was a sign. She pads to the door, schooling her features into a cool mask. No need to let the guy know she was a nervous wreck, right?

She takes a deep breath before throwing open the door. She smiles, fingers twisting in the belt of her robe. The vampire on the other side of the door is dressed casually, in jeans and a dark grey Henley. And the agency had definitely nailed her request. He was very attractive, full lipped with a hint of stubble on a chiseled jaw. Not much taller than her and no trace of gym rat pretty boy, something Caroline had long since lost her taste for.

She realizes that she's been staring at him for way too long without speaking. He's raised a brow, and seems to be waiting patiently. Caroline swallows back a nervous giggle, "Hi. Sorry, come in. I wasn't expecting you so soon."

A flicker of surprise crosses his face, maybe a little confusion too. But he steps forward, passing her in the doorway. "That's quite all right, love." He surveys her apartment, eyes narrowed and assessing and Caroline wonders what he's seeing. She's neat in general but her apartment reflects her travels, an odd mix of old pieces and new. She likes colors and textures and comfortable furniture, even if it's not exactly trendy. But when he turns back to her and says, "You've a lovely home," he seems sincere.

"Thank you," she replies. She hesitates, unsure of how to proceed. "Would you like a drink?" she offers. "I might have finished the tequila but I'm sure I've got a bottle of wine somewhere."

His gaze sharpens and he studies her face for long moments. "Been having a bit of a private party, have you?"

It's said with a tinge of amusement and Caroline bristles slightly, turning away. And promptly stumbles into a table she'd forgotten was there. Oops.

It tips, but luckily her visitor has crazy quick reflexes and he snatches the lamp that had been knocked askew before it can hit the floor. He sets it down and grasps her elbow, leading her to her couch. "Right. Why don't you just have a seat before you destroy any more antiques, hmm?"

Caroline flops down onto the cushions, her robe splitting over her thighs. Her guest's eyes linger, unmistakably appreciative. Caroline smirks, because it never hurt to be reminded that you were attractive. She crosses one thigh over the other, letting the silk creep up even higher. But her guest is way more gentlemanly then she would have expected, averting his eyes and turning away.

"What's your name, love?" he asks, wandering over to a wall where she's hung several framed photographs. It had been a career, a couple of decades ago, one of her favorites. She'd even won some awards and it's totally a job she plans to pick up again someday.

"Caroline," she tells him automatically. And then she wonders if she should have lied. Surely she hadn't been given his actual name? "And you're Jack, right? I think that's what the lady on the phone said."

He stills, his back tensing. He'd leaned in to examine a shot of Salto El Sapito, but he turns slowly to face her, his head tipped to the side. He prowls forward a few steps, "And which lady was that?" he asks softly.

And maybe it's the alcohol but something in the silky tone makes her pause, a little chill in the air. Caroline leans forward, groping for the square of paper she knows she'd left on the table. She holds it up and his eyes zero in on it. He seems to relax, and his lips curl with something like humor. "Oh, that lady. Of course. And it's Nick, actually. Not Jack."

Huh. Caroline could have sworn it was Jack. Stupid tequila.

She shakes her head and sits up straighter. "Oookay. Now that we've got that out of the way. How does this usually work? I've never paid for sex before."

He turns back to the photographs for a moment, and Caroline thinks he's hiding a smile. And she's not sure she likes this guy. It's been awhile since she's toiled away in customer service but she knew better then to laugh at a client who thought wood paneling was a good idea. Should he really be mocking her right now? Was there a comment card she could fill out? She'd have to look into it.

Maybe she'd imagined it because when he turns back any hint of laughter is gone. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types something quickly. She's about to ask, but thinks better of it, assuming it's a safety thing. Just in case she was a serial killer after hot vampire prostitutes. He joins her on the couch, facing her and laying his arm along the back. She can't help that her eyes are drawn to his hands, the big palms and long fingers have her squeezing her legs together as flashes of where she wants them flit through her mind.

It really had been too long.

He watches her do it with interest, and she thinks she sees him inhale deeply. The blue of his eyes darkens a few shades and when he speaks there's a brand new husky note deepening his voice. "There's no agenda, love. And no rush. Why don't you tell me about yourself? Perhaps it'll help you relax?"

So he had picked up on her anxiety. Kind of embarrassing. She ducks her head, letting her hair shield her face, groping for something to say. He helps, asking gently, "How long have you been a vampire for?"

"Almost a century," she answers.

"And where were you turned?"

"Mystic Falls, Virginia."

He smiles, lets out a short laugh. "What I coincidence, so was I."

Caroline narrows her eyes, looking for a hint that he's messing with her, "No way."

"Yes way," he echoes playfully. "Long before you, however. Before electricity and running water. Before it was really much of a town. I was there again, not quite a century ago. Taking care of an old associate, ran into some old friends. Perhaps you knew them? Katerina Petrova and the Brother's Salvatore."

It's been more than a lifetime since she'd last seen any of them, and she hadn't thought of them in years. Still, hearing the names makes her freeze, a kick of fear landing deep in her gut, breath catching in her throat. He shifts forward minutely, his interest obviously peaked. "I take it you are familiar," he says, and it's not a question.

"Too familiar," she spits out, her hands balling into fists so hard it hurts.

"So you'd not be upset," he continues conversationally, "if I told you that I'd killed them?"

Air comes out of her mouth in a rush, and she's shocked at the relief she feels. She's probably a terrible person, but she finds she's not even the slightest bit sad, not even about Stefan, who'd managed to be kind to her, once she'd turned. But he'd only done it for Elena, hadn't cared much when Caroline was just another defenseless human girl his brother was going to use up and throw away.

He's watching her, his absorption plain, and Caroline shakes her head. "No," she tells him finally. "No I wouldn't be. And this is really not going how I thought it would."

The last was said under her breath, almost to herself, but he hears it. "And how did you think this would go?" he wonders, with an air of genuine curiosity.

Caroline shifts. "I didn't think small talk was going to happen, let alone deep conversation about murdered mutual acquaintances."

He throws his head back and laughs, "Well, such is the life of our kind."

She finds herself smiling, and rolling her eyes. "Don't let this 'king' guy hear you say that. I've heard he's kind of controlling. Picky about who gets murdered when."

If anything he laughs just the slightest bit harder. "Oh, have you not met our esteemed king, then?"

Caroline wrinkles her nose. "No. I'm told it's a you get summoned kind of deal. Show up, kiss the ring, or lose your head."

"Ah, yes. He's a bit temperamental, to be sure. But I'm sure you'll be fine. Pretty thing that you are. Perhaps you should mind your sharp tongue though, love. I find it delightful, of course. But he might not be in the mood for it."

She smothers a yawn with her hand, sinking further into the couch. "I might be in trouble then. Mouthy is kind of my default setting."

"You don't say?"

Caroline's tempted to throw a pillow at him, because he's clearly once again mocking her, but he reaches over, wraps a hand around her calve, and stretches her legs out across his lap. His fingertips stroke the skin along her shin, occasionally trickling up and tracing her knee. It feels nice, and she relaxes further.

She's fighting to keep her eyes open, because what kind of person falls asleep on a hooker, but he makes a soft shushing noise. "Sleep, Caroline," he urges. "It was very nice to meet you but I'm afraid you're not in a fit state for the things I'd like to do to you."

She fights it but between his touch and his low, coaxing tones she finds herself slipping away, limbs going heavy.

Her last thought before sleep claims her is that Gia was never going to let Caroline forget how unbelievably lame she was.

* * *

Caroline's abruptly awoken by a knocking at her front door. Her eyes dart around her apartment, confirming that she's alone. She sits up, noting that she's covered in the quilt from her bedroom, and there's a pillow underneath her head. Her mouth's a little dry but there's no headache or nausea (perk of vampirism) and she get to her feet without trouble.

Short term memory loss brought on by her over imbibing would have been fantastic though. Caroline kind of wants to hide under the blankets until she desiccates remembering just what she'd done last night.

There's another knock, louder this time, and she can hear someone shifting outside. Looking down, she notes her robe's askew so she unbelts it hurriedly and ties it more firmly around her body before making her way to the door. She checks the peephole, and the man on her welcome mat is familiar.

"Marcel?" she asks, once she throws it open. "What are you doing here?"

She'd met him once or twice, as he'd been the one to turn Gia and they'd remained good friends. She liked him, found him charming and easy to talk to, though she detected a hint of something cunning underneath and had been careful not to be too free with information about herself. At least until she knew him a little better. He grins at her, keeping his eyes respectfully on her face, and holds up a cream colored invitation. "Klaus is having a party tonight, wanted me to invite the newest members of our little vampire community."

Caroline takes the envelope, rubbing the thick paper between her fingertips. "So I've finally been summoned, I guess?"

"Yep," he confirms easily. "But don't worry, it's just a formality. Gia's vouched for you, and Elijah takes her word seriously. And Elijah's about the only person who Klaus occasionally listens to. You'll be fine. And I promise it'll be a hell of a party." Marcel takes a step back, without waiting for Caroline to reply. "I'll see you tonight."

She waves as he leaves, tears into the invitation before she's fully back inside the apartment. Scans it, notes the time and address. She's surprised to find a note, scrawled by hand in neat, flowing script, at the bottom.

'_I look forward to officially making your acquaintance, Caroline. - K.M.'_

Caroline sets it aside, puzzled at the personal touch. She'd been led to believe that Klaus wasn't the friendly type. That he kept a small circle of confidantes, mostly consisting of his family, and that he preferred those around him not included in it to speak only when spoken to.

But then again, Gia was her only point of reference and she wasn't exactly fond of the guy. Apparently the nicest thing he'd ever said to her, in almost a century, was, 'You're slightly more tolerable then my brother's last few brunette obsessions,' and had seemed to think it a great compliment. So basically, a mega douche. Not the type to bother leaving notes of welcome to vampire nobodies like her.

She goes to the fridge to pull out a blood bag, because maybe things would seem clearer when her gums no longer ached. Her phone's sitting on the counter and she picks it up to charge, surprised to see she has a voicemail. And once she's listened to it she'd confused for an entirely different manner. She recognizes the voice as the woman she'd spoken to last night in her drunken haze.

'_Good evening, Miss Forbes. We'd like to apologize that the meeting we arranged was not to your tastes. We pride ourselves on the satisfaction of our clientele. Please feel free to give us a call if you'd like to arrange something else.'_

Caroline listens to the message three times, still at a loss for what exactly it's about. Eventually, she disconnects, plugging her phone in with a huff. She chugs a portion of B+, not bothering to warm it up. This day's too weird already, she decides, once she's finished.

It's not her usual style but she is still kind of tired. And a little extra beauty sleep never hurt anyone.

* * *

She takes a cab, gawks at the grand façade of the house the address on the invitation had directed her too. She's been in her share of mansions, even back when she'd been a human teenager partying at Mayor Lockwood's house. But this one is gorgeous. White washed, tall columns on a big wraparound porch, several stories high and brightly lit. The door's opened as soon as she steps onto the top step. A man in a suit with a clipboard gives her a once over. "Name?" he asks, sounding bored.

She clears her throat. "Caroline. Caroline Forbes."

Recognition lights his eyes, and he doesn't even glance at his list. "Come right it. You're expected."

She smiles her thanks, takes a shaky breath. She walks past him, takes a step to the left, in the direction she can hear music emanating from. But the door attendant clears his throat. "To the right, Miss. Third door down. Klaus wishes to speak with you."

Caroline hopes her gulp isn't audible. She changes direction. Begins to ramble, because that's what she does when she's freaking out. "Probably wants reasonable doubt if he kills me, right? Can't have me disappearing from his lordship's party."

She's mostly joking but the servant doesn't crack a smile. Not exactly comforting. He points again, "That way. Third…"

"Door down. Gotcha. Thanks." Caroline throws her shoulders back, and keeps her chin up. No reason to meet her possible doom like a coward. However, her steely countenance doesn't last long, once she crosses the threshold to the indicated room. "You!" she spits out, first laying eyes on her old absinthe pushing club friend. "And you," she continues, more softly, a note of horror slipping in. Because the other man in the room is Nick. The man who'd been in her apartment last night.

And Caroline's not a stupid individual. She can do math better than most. One of these two men is the King of New Orleans, and she only hopes it's not the one who knew she'd hired a prostitute.

"My, my," the darker haired man begins, with a leer at the length of her legs. "Such a small world. Whatever was your name, darling? I'm afraid I didn't catch it. Despite the fact that our last encounter was so… memorable."

'_Nick's'_ face turns stony, "And how do you know Caroline, Kol?"

Caroline winces, as a puzzle piece snapped into place. If the dark haired man was Kol, the youngest of the Mikaelson brothers, that meant the other man was Klaus.

And wasn't that just her luck?

"Oh, you know how it is, Brother. A girl and a boy and plenty of liquor. Hot bodies, a burning attraction. Things just happen."

Caroline feels her face twist in revulsion, and she lets out a scoff. "Funny, that's not how I remember it."

He only grins, leans back on the sofa he's sprawled on, setting his boots on the table. "Only joking. But perhaps fate is trying to tell us something. You look every bit as tasty as I remember."

And then Klaus is moving, almost faster than Caroline can catch, hauling his brother up out of his seat and shoving him towards the door. "Out, Kol. And mind your manners amongst my guests."

Kol makes a show of brushing off his jacket, "Yes, of course. I'll be on my very best behavior."

Somehow Caroline doesn't believe him. Kol leaves, slamming the door behind him, and Caroline's left alone in the room with the last being on earth she wants to have a conversation with. She looks anywhere but at him, trying to think of a reason to excuse herself. It would be so much easier if she could fake an attack of cramps right now. He speaks solicitously, "Can I offer you a drink, Caroline?"

She shakes her head immediately, "No. Pretty sure I'm never, _ever_, drinking again."

"Not on my account, I hope?" He sounds way too innocent and Caroline can't help but look at him, note that his dimples are on full display as he smirks at her.

And it makes her so very angry.

"Is this funny to you?" she spits. "Are you getting off on my humiliation right now? Jesus. I heard you were a dick but come on."

He sobers slightly, swirls the bourbon he'd helped himself to around the glass as he studies her. "You weren't exaggerating about mouthy, were you?"

Caroline sighs, crosses her arms in front of her, "Are you going to kill me?"

"Do you really think that low of me?" he wonders, searching her features intently.

She refuses to squirm under the weight of his gaze. "Right now? Yeah, I kind of do."

A low, "Hmm," rumbles out of him, but he makes no further comment.

"Am I excused?" she asks, tone dripping with acid. "Your highness?"

Her plan is to leave. To walk out the door, back her bags, and get the hell out of New Orleans. She'll text Gia tomorrow, keep in touch. Maybe they can meet up somewhere else. But Klaus thwarts her, "To enjoy the party? Feel free, love. Save me a dance."

It's phrased like a suggestion but Caroline hears the underlying steel of an order, loud and clear. She nods tightly, spinning on her heel, resisting the urge to stomp her way to the door.

God, she was so freaking screwed.

* * *

It takes a great deal of effort to walk into the party like nothing's bothering her. To smile at Gia, accept compliments on her outfit (which _was_ great, and such a shame that it was wasted on this) and lie through her teeth that everything had gone perfectly fine. She's finally introduced to Elijah, finds him a little stiff, but nice enough.

She firmly turns down the Aunt Roberta that Kol had instructed the bartenders on how to make, much to his disappointment, ignoring his taunt of, "But I remember you being much more fun, darling." Her liver would survive it be she has no desire to go down _that_ road again.

Klaus saunters into the room about ten minutes after she had and the buzz of the crowd grows louder. People seem eager to talk to him, and he makes his way around the room, seemingly the consummate host. Caroline's careful to be on the opposite side at all times, tracking his movements. She expects him to make a move, to corner her. She's dreading it, knows can't be rude to him in front of all these people. That she'll grit her teeth and act like she's happy to speak to him, because as prideful as she is she's self-preserving too. But Klaus leaves her be and gradually Caroline relaxes.

And of course that's when he pounces.

There's a tap to her shoulder and she turns automatically. Stills when she sees who it is. He's added a tie, since their private meeting, his collar neatly closed. Looks just as good in the perfectly tailored suit as he had dressed down, damn him. "Might I have this dance?" he asks, offering his arm.

The man Caroline had been talking too steps back immediately, eyes dropping to the floor. He'd been cute but the genuflecting was kind of a turn off, pretty much reduced his attractiveness, in Caroline's eyes, to almost zero. She hands him her glass, not bothering to say anything, and takes Klaus' arm, letting herself be led on to the dance floor.

He sweeps her into the dance with a practiced motion, expertly leading in a way that melts her stiffness almost immediately, her body following his steps easily. She keeps her eyes averted, even when he murmurs, "I feel as though we've gotten off on the wrong foot, love."

"I don't like lies," Caroline snaps.

He doesn't seem to mind her anger, his reply even and calm. "I didn't lie. You made certain assumptions, I merely didn't correct them."

"Spoken like a true liar."

He's silent for a moment. "I suppose I am that. But I told you more truths then anything last night, Caroline."

Her head snaps to look at him, "Oh really?" she says incredulously. "You told me the truth, _Nick_?"

"My given name is, in fact, Niklaus. That was not a lie. And I was turned in Mystic Falls. And I did kill Katerina Petrova and the Salvatore brothers. And I do find your sharp tongue delightful."

Caroline looks around, sees more than a few pairs of eyes looking their way. "I can't get into this with you, right now. There are too many people here."

"An easy fix," Klaus tells her mildly. He catches the bandleader's eye, makes a slashing motion with his hand. The music halts immediately and he raises his voice, "Everybody out," he orders. "Now." There's a few murmurs of confusion, but everyone dutifully makes their way to an exit.

"What?" she sputters in protest. "Klaus, you can't just…"

But he's got a hand on her back, his palm warm against her skin, making her seriously regret the cropped top she's wearing, ushering her in the opposite direction of the flood of people streaming from the house. "I can. You'll find there's not much I can't do, love."

He leads her up a staircase, then another, and finally into a room, dominated by a huge dark wood bed frame. It's unmistakably his private bedroom. Caroline wrenches herself away from him, her earlier anger bubbling up once more, "Seriously? Could you be more presumptuous? Just because I was willing to sleep with you last night doesn't mean I'm going to now."

He shuts the door, slipping off his jacket and tossing it aside. "I'd never presume, Caroline. But you didn't want us to be overheard, correct? The bedrooms are spelled, making it the ideal place for this conversation."

She throws her hands up stalking away. "I don't want to have this conversation! I want to forget I ever met you!"

"Hard to do," Klaus counters far too reasonably, "when you live in my city."

"Um, duh. Have you not been paying attention? Last night was a disaster. I made a total ass of myself. I'm moving. Immediately. I hear Seattle's nice."

"It's not. It's rainy and filled with werewolves."

She lets out an aggravated noise, "Well as long as you're not there I can deal."

Klaus speeds several steps forward, until they're toe to toe, her heels putting them at an even height. She refuses to back away, stands her ground and holds his heated gaze. "No," he says simply.

Caroline lets out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, "'No?' No, what?"

"No, you'll not be leaving."

She feels her jaw drop, "You take this king this really seriously, don't you? But I'm not about to kneel and accept you as my ruler, or whatever. And unless you're planning on ripping my heart out I'll be going."

Caroline moves to brush past him but he stops her with a hand on her throat. But it's not a threat, his thumb softly stroking her wildly fluttering pulse. She bites her lip, shocked at just how good his touch feels, "I've no plans to kill you, love. I find you far too intriguing. But perhaps I can persuade you that you want to stay."

And then he kisses her, before she can snarl something about that being impossible, and make herself a liar in the process.

She'll curse herself for it later but she doesn't even think about not kissing him back, opening her mouth automatically under his onslaught and stroking into his mouth aggressively. He moans against her tongue, hands sliding down her body. He lifts her easily by her thighs, and she wraps them around his waist. She bites down on his lower lip, ripping his shirt away and digging her nails into his shoulders. He grinds their hips together, taking long strides forward and dropping her on his bed.

Klaus stands over her, just beginning to pant, a ring of gold bright around his irises. His hands glide up her legs, shoving up her skirt and tearing her underwear away. "This doesn't mean I like you," Caroline tells him, even as she wriggles out of her top and kicks off her shoes. "It's not my fault that you're stupidly hot."

His eyes glitter, the twist of his mouth viciously pleased as he drops to his knees. "I'll take the compliment, of course. But let's see what I can do to change your mind about the rest."

She grabs the bedding as his head ducks, closes her eyes and tries to keep her breaths even as his fingers part her folds. She's waiting, body tense and jaw clenched, for the first touch of his tongue. But nothing happens, so her eyes pop open and glare down at him. Which seems to be what he was waiting for, as he rasps his tongue over her clit. Caroline swallows the moan that builds, her toes curling into the edge of the mattress.

It gets harder, as he slips two fingers into her, and licking becomes sucking. Her hips start to move, shoving up into his face one moment and trying to get away the next, when it becomes almost too much. But Klaus stays with her, reading her body's cues perfectly, until her head's thrashing and her skin's slick with sweat.

Still, she refuses to make any noise, even if she wants to beg him for more, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

She's almost there, her thighs shaking under the hands he's pinned them with, riding the edge of something big.

And he stops. Pulls back and stands up, looming over her.

Her whimper of protest is mortifyingly loud. She's reaching down to touch herself, knows it'll only take a few circles of her fingers to get herself off. But Klaus is faster, catching her hands and crawling over her, pinning them over her head. He slants his mouth over hers, and Caroline lets out another little moan, upon tasting herself on his tongue, hitching her thigh over his hip and rocking against him.

"Better," he rumbles. "You can be angry with me Caroline. Because you think I deceived you. But don't try to deny that you want this."

She twists her wrists, and Klaus lets go, lets her flip them over. Caroline shakes her hair out of her face, sitting up and reaching for the clasp of her bra. She flings in aside, and Klaus eyes drop to her breasts immediately. It's a tiny distraction but she'll take it, reaching between them and ripping off his belt. She slides down, rakes her nails down his torso, watches the red lines fade as she tears open his pants. He helps her shove them down, groans, "Fuck, Caroline," when she wraps her hand around his cock. She strokes him firmly, watches him clench his jaw and try not to force himself harder into her grip. She rises up slightly, straddles his hips and positions him where she's dripping, "I think this will go better if you don't talk," she tells him, before sinking down in one swift motion.

Klaus gasps, hands tight on her hips, before he rolls them again. He pulls out and thrusts back in, and Caroline's back arches at the pleasure of it. But he stills, buried inside of her, circles his hips in a way that leaves her moaning at the fleeting pressure on her clit. She can barely focus on the words he rasps out, "I don't know, sweetheart. I think, under certain circumstances you'd very much like to listen to me talk. What if I told you about all the ways I want to fuck you? How good you feel wrapped around my cock? How incredible you look, flushed and spread out on my bed? How I can't wait to take you in yours?"

She opens her mouth to tell him to shut up again, but he begins moving, and the strangled noise that comes out isn't anything that resembles words. It's a quick climb, given how worked up she'd been, and soon she's clinging to him as her climax tears through her. His motions turn erratic, rocking into her and chasing his own high, his hips finally pinning hers as he shudders, her name a hoarse groan as he comes.

He rolls off of her quickly and they both breathe harshly, staring at his ceiling.

Caroline swallows hard, turning her head slightly to look at him, "I still don't like you," she states. Just in case he thought one round of great sex was enough to soften her.

Klaus seems unbothered, "Few people do. I've mostly gotten over it." A sly look crosses his face, and she's pulled across the bed, tucked underneath him, before she can blink. He props himself up on his elbows, staring down at her, "Have I convinced you to stay?"

She feels him hardening against her thigh, feels her body heat in reaction, her arousal building in response to the lean lines of him pressed against her. He must read her hesitance favorably, because his head lowers, mouth tracing her throat and moving lower. He doesn't seem to be in a hurry, cataloguing her reactions, testing her with lips and tongue and teeth.

It's different, from the angry round of fucking they'd just finished, and she knows that's dangerous. Because she has a sinking feeling that she could like him. Maybe. Someday. If he was a little more like the man who'd seemed to want to know her last night.

He's hovering over her breasts, gently tracing a nipple with his thumb, when he speaks again, "Well, Caroline?"

It takes her brain a moment to remember the question. She lifts a shoulder, feigning nonchalance. "I still don't think I've found the best beignets, so…"

It seems to be enough for Klaus, because he's soon got his lips wrapped around her nipple and his hand between her thighs. And he might have been right about the dirty talk thing.

Caroline stays the night. Has no regrets.

Makes him wait two months before she agrees to let him take her out for dinner.


	36. Mini Drabble Monday 03-14

**Notes: **Haven't had much luck with writing in the last week so I asked for mini drabble prompts to get me motivated. Here's the two that I wrote last night.

**Just One Taste**

**(Prompt: "kc + 'every morning you walk in and inhale deeply then walk back out seriously just buy something already' bakery au." Rated T.)**

He doesn't think much of it, the first time he sees her do it, too captivated by her, the way she'd moved, to be bothered by her strange behavior.

Klaus had been sitting by the window, a cup of tea at his elbow, waiting on a client who was going to pay him an exorbitant amount of money to design her wedding cake. Not his favorite activity but it more than paid the bills. He'd seen her walk in, noted the blonde curls bouncing about her shoulders picking up the morning's sunshine. Admired the shapely form in a slim fitting blue dress.

She'd paused, before joining the queue, taking a deep breath, her lashes fluttering and something like bliss crossing her face.

And if Klaus' imagination runs a little wild, thinking about how she'd look spread out on his sheets, wearing that expression, well, he's only a man. She inhales again, eyes flitting over to the display case, to the freshly baked cinnamon buns, dripping with icing, that Kol's piling on to a tray. She bites her lower lip, and it's ever so slightly pinker when she's done. Klaus has a fleeting wish that it had been his teeth doing the nibbling.

She licks her lips, flickers of indecision crossing her face. Klaus watches with great interest as she tears her gaze away from the pastries, her lips forming around a silently uttered curse word. And then she spins on her heel and leaves the bakery.

Klaus watches her go, until she crosses the street and melts into the crowd of pedestrians, contemplating the oddness of it, the way she'd denied herself something she'd clearly wanted.

Until his client arrives, overbearing mother in tow. And he's sufficiently distracted. And more than a little aggravated.

* * *

Still he makes a point to be on the shop floor at around the same time for the next few days, his mind having wandered back to her, wondering (hoping) he'd see the blonde again. It's only expedient, Klaus tells himself. It coincides to the time Kol and the rest of the bakers are busiest, running trays back and forth, prepping for the lunchtime rush. The bustle and the clanging disturbs Klaus, and his more delicate work, that's all.

Three days later his persistence is rewarded.

She's wearing trousers this time, her hair piled on top of her head. But the blouse she wears is sleeveless, and ever so slightly diaphanous, hinting at the curves underneath. Klaus' eyes are drawn to the length of her neck as he thinks about what her skin will taste like.

She only has eyes for the food on display, probably a good thing as Klaus' attentions aren't subtle, if the eyebrow wriggle Kol favors him with is anything to go by. She's breathing deeply and Klaus gets it. There's few things that smell better then cinnamon and sugar and freshly baked bread. She makes it to the line this time, and Klaus is interested to see what she'll order.

He's almost disappointed when she walks away with nothing but a paper cup and one last longing look at the cupcakes.

Klaus watches her go again before making his way to the back. "What'd she order?" he asks Kol, unable to resist.

Kol blinks at him like he's confused, but the hint of a smirk tells Klaus that his brother knows exactly what he'd meant, "Who?"

"You know who, Kol. Don't be an arse," Klaus snaps.

"Same thing she always does, brother. Coffee. Black, one sweetener. It's a damn shame as she's clearly lusting after the goodies."

Klaus makes a noise, to signal that he'd heard, before turning to leave. "Her name's Caroline," Kol calls after him, "by the way. She works around the corner."

Klaus faces his brother again, eyes narrowing suspiciously, "And how do you know that?"

"I know a great many things," Kol replies, irritatingly superior.

Klaus flips him off as he leaves, and Kol's chuckle follows him back to the kitchen.

* * *

She comes back. Every Monday and Thursday, just before noon, like clockwork. He's made a study of her expressions, of her likes and dislikes at least when it comes to food. The closest she's ever come to ordering something to eat was the day they'd featured chocolate cake with a salted caramel glaze. Her eyes had closed briefly, a real struggle evident in her features. Blueberry gallettes got a nose wrinkle but strawberry tarts had left her clutching the strap of her bag, like she'd been desperate not to reach across the counter and snatch one.

And so Klaus plots. And makes use of the fact that, as half-owner of Tasty Little Things, he has some control over the day's menus.

Kol's the only person who could overrule him but he doesn't, seemingly amused by Klaus' infatuation.

And so one Thursday, a few weeks after Klaus had first set eyes on Caroline, the display cases are filled to bursting with all the things that had made her eyes widen and her lips part, when she walks into the bakery.

She takes her first customary inhale, mouth falling open, and Klaus wants to hear the moan she'd held in. Wants to feel it rumble through her when they're pressed together in a more private location. He sidles up to her, clears his throat. She startles, just a touch, too wrapped up in her fantasies about food.

But Klaus is aiming to change that.

"Are you going to order something, love?"

Her head tips, and she studies him, "I'm just here for coffee."

"Black, one sweetener. I know. It's all you ever order."

She shifts away from him muttering, "Ookay, creepy," in an undertone.

Klaus winces internally because perhaps seeming like a stalker was the wrong play here, "I work here. Own the place, actually. And you've been coming in for ages, and you never order anything to eat, even though you want to. And I'm wondering why?"

"Oh," she relaxes, just the smallest softening of the line of her shoulders. "Do you know how many calories are in this stuff? All the real butter and cream and sugar? I have a bridesmaid's dress to fit into in a month. Elena's too freaking nice but her twin's a nightmare. Picture the scariest bridezilla you've ever met. Kat's worse, trust me."

He can't help but let his eyes slip down her body, the body she has absolutely nothing to worry about. He tells her as much, "You're gorgeous, love. And surely one little dessert won't kill you?" He lowers his voice conspiratorially, "I made them myself."

She rolls her eyes, a retort swift, "No you didn't. Kol does the baking. You do the decorating."

Klaus' brows rise in surprise at her knowledge, "And you'd know that how?"

"Kol's dating a friend of mine. I know all about you, Klaus." Her lips curl into a teasing smile, and Klaus is even more intrigued. She leans forward, voice dropping to a murmur, "In fact, I'm supposed to seduce you into agreeing to do Elena's cake. She tried to get an appointment but you have a waiting list."

Klaus chuckles, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but telling the mark what you're on about kind of defeats the purpose of a seduction, does it not, love?"

"I'm not really great at subtle," Caroline informs him, with an unconcerned shrug. "Plus, I'm totally aware of your plan to tempt me via baked goods, so at least we're even."

Klaus looks over behind the counter, throwing a menacing glare Kol's way. They'll be having words later.

But Caroline draws his attention back to her, fingertips tracing his bare forearm. His skin prickles at the contact a dull ache for more beginning in his gut. "Now why don't you go get me something chocolate filled and we can chat about how we can both achieve our aims?"

Klaus has no objections, but he thinks that pushing her buttons will become one of his very favorite things, "What about the dreaded calories?"

Caroline lets out a hum, throaty and amused, her eyes dropping to his lips. Klaus' pulse picks up, and he's very aware of the heat of her hand on his skin, "I'm counting on negotiations going well. We'll come to an agreement, and then you can help me burn off what I eat after you take me out to dinner tonight."

**Great Surprises**

**(Prompt: "KC: My pet tarantula/snake (etc) escaped and I forgot to warn the guy below me who is terrified of snakes/spiders." I went with iguana instead! Rated K+)**

After a long day at work Caroline was really looking forward to a bath and some quality time with her couch. But alas, it was not to be. She spies a piece of paper on her hallway floor, when she walks in. She picks it up, brows rising at the angry pencil slashes. The paper's heavy, edges ragged like it had been hastily torn.

'_3B. Collect your loathsome excuse for a house pet before 6PM or I WILL call animal control_'

She curses, eyes darting to the clock. "Stupid Klaus," she grits out. She's pretty sure he's bluffing, but she's not willing to take the chance. It's 5:58 PM and the building's elevators are notoriously slow leaving her with only one option. Caroline hastily kicks off her heels, and tugs her pencil skirt up a few inches. And then she sprints for the stairs. She narrowly avoids mowing over a neighbour (but she doesn't recognize the guy, which means she doesn't see him often, which means she doesn't need to apologize) but she makes it, slamming her fist against the door to 3B with seconds to spare.

It's thrown open quickly and the angry look on the apartment's occupant's face fades as he takes in her disheveled appearance. Caroline fights to keep from shifting awkwardly, suddenly very aware of how much leg her rucked up skirt is showing.

Yeah, she probably should have taken a moment to adjust before knocking.

"Where is he?" she demands, shoving past Klaus.

"Safely corralled," he answers, nodding to his living room.

Caroline lets out a gasp, shooting Klaus a glare when she sees what he's done. Her iguana's under a laundry basket, several thick books piled on top. She kneels next to it, crooning softly, "Shh, you're okay. We'll get you home and under your lamp and I'll bring you some blackberries, okay? We'll forget all about the nasty man."

Klaus snorts, and sounds highly offended when he speaks, "'Nasty man?' Surely you cannot mean me, sweetheart. _I_ was attacked in my own home by _your_ evil beast. For the _third_ time. Surely that makes me the wronged party?"

Caroline scoffs, "Oh please. He did not attack you."

"Maybe not," Klaus mutters resentfully. "But he could have."

She's probably rougher with the books then she should be, considering how old and expensive they look. But Reptar was the sweetest and it wasn't his fault that he hadn't adjusted to apartment living. "And yes, I meant you. Do you know how scared he would have been had you called animal control? Strangers and cages." Caroline lifts the basket, reaching out to stroke Reptar's head. He shuffles closer, allowing Caroline to pick him up and cradle him to her chest. She stands, turning towards Klaus. He cringes away, kind of violently, putting several extra feet of space between them. Caroline stops short, a piece of the puzzle clicking into place. Klaus had been pretty friendly the few times they'd met up in the elevator, dryly funny and a little flirty. She'd been mystified by his brusqueness the last two times she'd had to collect her adventurous pet, "Oh, I get it. You're scared."

He makes a derisive noise, avoiding her gaze. "I most certainly am not."

Feeling a little mean, Caroline steps forward. Klaus mirrors her with a step back. And then another, when she closes that distance. Until he's backed into the wall.

"Wanna quit lying?" Caroline asks dryly.

But Klaus is a stubborn one, clenching his jaw before making another denial, "It's not fear. It's perfectly reasonable to be startled when a large lizard drops onto your couch."

"Did you let out a perfectly reasonable scream?" Caroline teases. "I'm sorry I missed that."

He reddens slightly, his hands balling into fists at his size. And Caroline realizes that she's being kind of an ass. She takes a few steps back, depositing Reptar on a chair before approaching Klaus, hands held out, "Look, I'm sorry. It's cool if he freaks you out. I totally wanted a cat but my mom's allergic to anything remotely furry. We compromised and I wouldn't want anything else now."

Klaus' eyes stay focused behind her, like he expects her iguana to catapult across the room and gnaw his face off. He clears his throat, "It's fine, love. But perhaps you could keep him enclosed?"

"Nope. He's a free range iguana. Gets moody in a terrarium. I'm slowly narrowing down his escape routes however."

Klaus looks distinctly unimpressed, "Marvelous," he drawls. "So I can expect more visits, I suppose?"

"You should feel flattered," Caroline tells him. "He obviously likes you. And Reptar has excellent taste in people. Did not like my last boyfriend. At all. And he turned out to be a cheating dirtbag, so I trust his judgement."

"Really?" Klaus asks, finally looking at her, a new tinge of interest heating his gaze. And Caroline suddenly realizes that her skirt situation has not been improved by kneeling on the floor. "So if I were to ask you to dinner…"

"I would say yes," Caroline answers. Because she's enjoyed their brief conversations, and Klaus _has_ appeared in a naughty dream or two so she can't say she's blind to his attractiveness. But still, she needs to make some things clear. "So long as you understand that Reptar and I are a package deal."

Klaus swallows hard and nods, "I guess I'll have to make his acquaintance at some point then."

It's more then she'd expected, and she feels a tiny flutter of warmth at the fact that he's willing to try, to step out of his comfort zone, for her. Caroline returns to the chair she'd set the lizard on, "I promise you he's never bitten anyone in his entire life," she tells Klaus seriously. "The jumping down from shelves thing just takes some getting used to. He likes to feel tall."

Klaus drifts closer, within touching distance, though his eyes remain wary and locked on Reptar, "Your choice in animal companions isn't a deal breaker, love. My brother once dated a woman who insisted that unicorns were extinct, and not mythological which is far more egregious."

Caroline laughs, and Klaus smiles with her, setting his hand on her back to lead her to the door, "So tomorrow? Dinner at 7."

"It's a date," Caroline confirms, her anticipation growing. "I'll pick you up, save you the trouble of facing the dragon."


	37. Mini Drabble Monday 03-21

**Notes: **A Monday mini drabble from last week!

**Gonna Show You**

**(Prompt: KC: My friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex, quick make out with me, I'll pay you. Title from 'Kiss' by Prince. Rated T.)**

Was there a worse place to be, on a Friday night, then at a party with people you could barely stand? Okay, fine. She could tolerate a couple of them. She loved Bonnie and Elena. And Kat. Usually. But since Kat's the one who'd railroaded her into coming tonight she's not exactly in Caroline's good books.

Because her ex is supposed to be here, and his terrible brother too. Plus Kol Mikaelson. Who didn't seem to grasp that directing what he probably thought of as stunning witticisms to her boobs was not cool. And Elijah Mikaelson who had a stick permanently lodged somewhere unpleasant (and Caroline still doubted Katherine's insistence that he unclenched behind closed doors). And Rebekah Mikaelson who might be the biggest bitch Caroline had ever met. Impressive considering she knew Katherine Pierce, and wasn't exactly sunshine and sweetness herself.

Really, did parents who produced such terrible children have to be _so_ prolific? Caroline had only met the three but she'd heard rumors that there were a couple others lurking about. She kinda hoped she never had the pleasure. Kol, Elijah and Rebekah were more than enough of a peek into _that_ gene pool.

Caroline glances around the room, looking for one of her friends. She spies Bonnie, but it looks like Kol's trying (for the eleventy billionth time) to charm her friend into agreeing to be seen with him in public and Caroline has no desire to witness it. Kat's nowhere to be found (and neither is Elijah – and Caroline would bet her last paycheck that they're getting it on in a bathroom – apparently he was in to that thing that Caroline really wished she did _not_ know) and hanging out near Elena is a terrible idea because she'll immediately be sucked into Damon Salvatore's aura of smarm the second he and Stefan arrive. And Stefan Salvatore is the last person Caroline wants to see.

Yeah, their relationship was circling the drain. But not bothering to break up with her before he took off to Europe with his first love was a seriously dick move. Caroline had found out by browsing Instagram.

Stefan was just lucky she'd talked Katherine out of that murder plot she'd been a little too enthusiastic about.

With her options for company severely limited Caroline heads to the kitchen in search of something else. Something that's never let her down.

Booze. And maybe some snacks.

* * *

An excellent decision, as it turns out. Because there's a very attractive man, one she's never met, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. He glances her way when she enters, and his eyes linger in a way that's distinctly appreciative.

And maybe Caroline will knock Kat down a few pegs on her hit list for throwing together this outfit while Caroline had been face down on her bed whining about how she wanted to stay home and watch chick flicks. No one knew little black dresses that could make men's eyeballs fall out like Katherine Pierce.

Caroline throws him a smile, testing the waters, and it grows when he returns it. "Can I pour you something, love?" he offers, nodding down at the bottles littering the island.

She takes the few steps until she's beside him, her arm brushing his, and she pretends to consider her options. "What you're having is fine," she tells him, tipping her glass in his direction so he can pour.

His hand covers her, ostensibly to keep her hand steady. But the light strokes of his fingertips on the back of her hand say something a little different.

He's even better looking up close, a hint of stubble and full lips, watching her with curious blue eyes. "May I ask your name?" he murmurs once her glass is full, setting the bottle aside.

"Caroline. And you are?"

"Klaus. Your name's a little familiar. Perhaps you're acquainted with my siblings?"

It hits her then, the familiar crisp English accent what tips her off.

Ugh. Just when this party was looking up.

Caroline shifts away, eyes going to the ceiling, her question resigned and almost a complaint, "You're a Mikaelson, aren't you?"

He laughs softly, closing the distance between them so she can once again feel the heat of him on her skin, "Guilty. And from that reaction I take it you know Kol."

"He stares at my boobs on the regular. But Elijah looks at me with vaguely disapproving judgement sometimes. And Rebekah hates my guts."

"Rebekah hates everyone, don't take it personally. And Elijah's always been unbearably stuffy. Almost as bad as our other brother, Finn."

"I find it hard to belief that there's someone worse."

"You'll have to take my word for it, love. Finn's not overly fond of the rest of us. Steers clear."

"Maybe that means he's just the only sane one."

Klaus puts a hand over his chest, face turning down into a wounded pout that's both hilarious and adorable. And damn him for being charming. "That's hurtful. I insist you make it up to me."

Caroline rolls her eyes, but it's a struggle not to smile. "If you demand sexual favors right now you're definitely too much like Kol for me to be talking to."

She hears the front door open, hears voices rise in greeting, Elena's high pitched exclamation of, 'Damon!' too familiar to Caroline. She stiffens, knowing that where one Salvatore goes another follows.

Their freaky love hate codependence, and Damon's inability to go more than two weeks without royally fucking something up, being the main reason she and Stefan had been more on the rocks then happy over the course of their relationship.

And Caroline knows she has to think fast because if she knows anything about Damon it's that he'll head straight for the liquor. She glances at Klaus, whose expression has clouded with a touch of concern. Caroline shakes herself, and decides to do something a little nuts.

Because she deserved it, alright? Yeah, she'd realized she was better off without Stefan, and Stefan's tendency to make decisions for her, but that didn't mean a little petty revenge was off the table. He'd sent her an email last week, patronizing to the extreme, about hoping they could go back to being friends one she got over him.

And Caroline had no desire to be his friend. But showing him that she was way, way over him sounded like a good idea.

She stepped into Klaus, ran her palm up his chest and curled it around his neck. One of his brows rose but he didn't push her away, his hands settling around her waist. "Forgive me, sweetheart, but you seem to change your mind awfully quick. A clue, about what you want, would be appreciated."

"I want you to kiss me. I'll even freaking pay you. It's a messy ex situation. I won't bore you with the details, but…"

It seems like Klaus doesn't want them because her words are muffled by his lips. He doesn't dive right in, for all that she'd pretty much invited him to. His mouth brushes over hers, soft and teasing, until her lips part and she slides her hand into his hair to pull him closer.

She lets out a hum at her first taste of him, the faint tang of bourbon, meets the slide of his tongue with hers. Caroline quickly loses track of time, of where they are, lets her body melt into his, encourages his wandering hands with sighs and soft moans.

He pulls back with one last nip to her lip, and Caroline's head tips back as she gasps for breath. His lips trace her jaw, and he finds a spot under her ear that leaves her shuddering and clutching at his shoulders when he scrapes it with his teeth. His voice is thick, when he speaks, and Caroline's distracted by his mouth moving against her skin, "They're gone."

"Hmm?" she replies hazily, her intent on exploring the lean muscles underneath his shirt.

"Whoever you wanted to avoid, and likely a few others."

Caroline pauses and pulls back, "People came in?"

Klaus grins, brings his hand up to her face, "Several. I'm flattered you didn't notice. Bekah shrieking about my deplorable taste in women was particularly loud."

"Oh," Caroline looks down, avoiding his knowing gaze. "I guess mission accomplished then. And I'll just be…"

"Your phone number," Klaus interrupts. "That's the payment that I want."

"I don't think…"

"Come on, take a chance. Get to know me. You can overlook that I'm a Mikaelson and I'll overlook that fact that you shamelessly used me just now."

Caroline narrows her eyes, and pokes him in the chest, "I didn't hear you complaining, buddy."

Klaus tugs her back, so her body's flush against his, and she can feel just how hard he's not complaining, "You're a glorious kisser. And I'd like nothing more than to drag you to my across the house to my room and continue this. But I want more than just sex, as fantastic as that sex will be."

"I am so not having sex in Elijah's guest room," Caroline tells him, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

He laughs again, rests his forehead against hers, "Noted. But my place won't be ready for a month."

Caroline bites her lip, and considers him. Their chemistry is insane, and she feels _good_ in his arms. What's the harm in taking another leap? "You can have my number. We'll see where we are in a month."

When he kisses her again Caroline's sure she'd made the right call.


	38. Just A Grumpy Optimist

**Notes: **For Paula. Happy Birthday, hope it's a great one!

**Prompt from howeverlongs (Happy Birthday!): KC + "i'm on a date with this creepy dude and now i am trying to escape from him so could you please help me through this window" au. Title from a short story by Robert Hobkrik. Smut).**

**Just A Grumpy Optimist**

In her twenty-five years on planet Earth Caroline Forbes had been on many dates. A couple of great ones, some that fell firmly into the 'eh' category. But this one? This one, if it could even be _called_ a date, was easily the worst dating experience of her life. Including that time she'd been with a guy who had no idea how to change a tire, or seemed to understand that Caroline (and her tiny lady brain) could, _and_ she'd been wearing white.

Everyone else at the party seemed to be having a good time so it wasn't like that was the problem. And Caroline looked hot, and was a delightful conversationalist, if she did say so herself, so neither was she. No, it was the fact that her date couldn't bother to feign even a fleeting interest in either Caroline's boobs or her brain that had made this night a miserable disaster.

She was going to strangle Elena Gilbert one of these days.

And the evening had started so promisingly. Caroline had been pleased to see that Stefan Salvatore was cute, if a little glum. Set up or not attractiveness was a bonus. But not a big enough one to make Caroline overlook the fact that he was ass backwards in love with one of her oldest friends. Who happened to be dating his brother.

Things had quickly gone downhill after she'd arrived.

Elena had asked Caroline to meet Stefan initially, had set those big brown doe eyes to pleading and Caroline hadn't been able to say no despite her distaste for blind dates. 'He's such a great guy, Care. I don't know why he's still single!' Elena had lamented. Caroline had tried to stay strong, but damn it if it wasn't _still_ impossible to say no to Elena. She'd agreed to attend a party at Damon's place, had even worn what she knew was a traffic stopping dress. And super cute underwear because sue her, she was an optimist.

Half an hour after arriving it had been clear that her effort was pointless. And she'd totally solved the mystery of Stefan Salvatore's singlehood.

It had been cake, no Nancy Drew-ing required. Caroline had a lifetime of watching guys make heart eyes at Elena Gilbert while she was completely oblivious. Stefan was just the latest in a long line and Caroline was so over being surprised or disappointed by it. Stefan could pine all he wanted, she wasn't willing to bend over backwards to be a consolation prize. It wasn't a situation Caroline wanted any part in, even if teenage-her had kind of swooned over the idea of love triangles.

She'd cut her losses early, and was currently plotting her escape. She just needed to get out of the house, so she could call a cab, and go home.

A bottle of wine, bubble bath, and some trashy reality shows sounded like heaven.

But her exits are blocked. Elena and Damon were snuggled up in the living room, indulging in some pretty heavy (and gross) PDA so the front door was out. Elena would lay the guilt on thick if she caught wind of Caroline's plan, and that was so not a conversation she wanted to have. Stefan was in the kitchen, brooding into a glass of bourbon (Caroline had spent ten minutes getting monosyllabic answers to her questions before giving up – she thought she deserved serious points for effort) so slipping out the patio door, and cutting through the backyard, was out of the question.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. She'd noticed a window in the bathroom earlier. It was maybe a little small but Caroline was sure she could manage. It couldn't be any more difficult than the shimmying down the tree outside her bedroom window she'd occasionally done in high school.

She makes her way down the hallway telling herself it's stupid to feel guilty for ditching Stefan. She'd done more than her part to make this date work, and had gotten nada in return. She was well within her rights to leave and try to salvage her evening. Stefan probably wouldn't even notice that she was gone.

She's got one leg out the window when her plan hits a snag. There's a noise outside, and the door to the bathroom flies open and Caroline freezes hoping she doesn't look like a burglar. That would be awkward to explain to her mother.

But there's no alarmed yelling and she chances a look over. It's a guy, one she'd noticed (because he's hot and she's not blind) even if they hadn't been introduced. Shock flashes across his face, followed by amusement as his eyes lower. And Caroline's suddenly very aware of how much leg she's flashing in her current position. Pulling herself off the window ledge she tugs down her skirt, "Knock much? Geez. I could have been peeing."

He grins, and shuts the door, leaning back against it, "Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

"Pretty sure that's none of your business," Caroline snaps back, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, refusing to admit that the accent had made her pulse flutter a little.

Her ire only seems to fan his interest, "Ah, but then I would have missed that delightful view."

Caroline scoffs, her ears burning, "Ew, perv."

He shrugs, reaching behind him to lock the door, "Perhaps. Why the great escape?"

"I repeat," Caroline deadpans, "pretty sure that's _none_ of your business."

He slips passed her, leans out the window, "You know there's gravel out there, don't you? Not sure those heels are up to the jump. It'd be a shame if you broke that pretty leg of yours."

Glancing out Caroline realizes that he's right. Her eyes close for a moment in disappointment, but she's not really one to admit defeat. "Clearly I'm going to need to find another window," she grumbles. Eyeing him she takes a chance, "Any suggestions?" she asks sweetly.

He smirks, turns to face her, "More of a proposition, really."

"I'm listening," Caroline says slowly, just a little wary. He hasn't tried to touch her, or really invade her space, despite that first perusal which had made it clear he finds her attractive. She might have accused him of being a perv but he doesn't really set her finely honed creep sensors off.

Plus she never leaves home without her pepper spray.

He ducks down, pulls a towel out of the cabinet under the sink, throwing it over his shoulder. "I'll go out first. Lose your shoes and I'll help you down."

He climbs out the window leaving Caroline blinking in his wake. "Wait," she hisses. "You said proposition. What's in this for you?"

"It gets me out of the party, for one. And it gets me far more interesting company."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a little presumptuous?"

"Often," he replies, seemingly unbothered. "Are you coming or are you going to attempt to go back and waste your charms on Stefan once more?"

Caroline considers her options, decides that going out the window with the witty, accented stranger is still the best one. She reaches down to undo her shoes, thrusts them out the window at him. She pauses, just before she begins to climb out, "One thing. What's your name?"

He flashes her a smile, teeth bright in the fading evening light, like he's pleased that she'd asked, "Klaus. And am I right in assuming that yours is _not_ Barbie?"

She files away the fact that he's asked after her, and isn't shy about admitting it, "It's Caroline. Damon's just a dick."

"A tragically uncreative one," her new partner in crime muses. "My sister, Rebekah, also blonde, was stuck with a similar moniker. I do believe she's plotted his slow, painful, death ever since."

Caroline finds herself smiling. Maybe her night won't be a total bust, because she kind of likes this guy. And if Elena ever wises up, and realizes that Damon's the worst, maybe she'll need a murder buddy.

"Okay, this is not my first sneaky climb out a window," she tells him. "So I know there's no way to do this gracefully. So if you could keep your eyes averted, and _not_ take a peek up my skirt, it would be greatly appreciated."

And would significantly increase his chances of seeing what was underneath her dress later on. But if he needed that spelled out for him he wasn't very smart, was he?

"I'll be a perfect gentleman," he assures her, tone just a smidge too innocent to be believed.

"You better," Caroline warns him. "My mom's a cop, so I know how to hurt you."

"We should probably save the kinky stuff for our second date."

She bites her lip this time, to keep in the giggle that's getting harder to supress, distracts herself by throwing her leg over the edge of the window. She rests on it, ducks low to get her head under the frame. She grips the edges to pull the other leg out, doesn't protest his steadying hands on her hips, even when they linger once she's safely dropped to the ground. She feels the line of his chest press into her back, his lips brushing her hair when he murmurs, "Impressive."

She spins, feet protected by the towel he's thoughtfully dropped on the ground, smoothing her dress back into place. To his credit, his eyes stay on her face. "Why thank you. I work out."

"To great effect," he compliments, running a palm lightly down her arm. She shivers at the contact, tempted to sway closer, but he steps back, retrieving her shoes and handing them off. Offers her an arm for support, when she bends to fasten them.

Caroline knows she should probably pull out her phone, and complete her initial plan, call a cab and spend the rest of the night in her bathtub. But she lingers, and he doesn't disappoint her, "Can I buy you a drink, love? I'm parked down the street and there's a place I like not far from here."

"I think I'd like that," Caroline tells him, with a smile. "But first, I'm going to need to see your driver's license."

He raises an eyebrow, but his hand goes to his back pocket, "I'm flattered, but I can assure you I'm perfectly legal."

She rolls her eyes, and holds out her hand impatiently, flipping his wallet open once he's handed it over, "Oh, Niklaus, is it? Not sure how I feel about you lying about your name."

"It's not a lie," he protests. "Very few people actually call me that."

"Hmm, maybe I'll let it slide. Just this once. Because you're an organ donor." Caroline snaps a photo of the license and with a few taps she's texted it to Bonnie.

The reply comes quickly, _'He's cute! I'll call you in about an hour.'_

She hands him back his wallet, reading the quizzical look on his face easily, "Just in case you're a serial killer. I'm leaving breadcrumbs. Standard operating procedure when going home with a stranger."

"Now who's being presumptuous?" he teases, letting his hand rest on her back. "Who says I'm the sort who puts out on the first date?"

She elbows him, but stays close, his warmth pleasant in the slight chill. "Call it a hunch."

* * *

She likes the place he'd taken her to, the low lights and the cozy booths. There'd been a momentary awkwardness as they were seated, the fact that they were strangers never more apparent. But he'd asked if she was hungry, and they'd squabbled about pizza (he was one of those weird pineapple people) before agreeing to split a couple of starters. The appetizers are excellent and the wine she's drinking one of her favorites. They'd lapsed into conversation, picking up their flirty banter like the short lull of uncertainty had never happened. They'd covered the basics: family, jobs, current relationship statuses. And Klaus is currently answering her rapid questions, an expression of amused indulgence curling his too tempting lips, "Favorite sport?" she fires.

"Football. _Not_ the American nonsense."

"Do you like to travel?"

"Very much so."

"Favorite place?"

"Rome."

"Cats or dogs"

"I like most animals."

"Do you like tea?"

"Obviously."

Caroline thinks she's got him where she wants him, his answers are flying back just as quickly as she's tossing questions, automatic, unthinking and honest. "What color are my panties?"

"Purple."

"Ha!" Caroline crows, pointing at him gleefully. "Gentleman my ass."

He opens his mouth, a brief look of chagrin crossing his face, "Hardly my fault, love. I couldn't exactly ensure your safety if my eyes were averted, could I?"

"If that's your story," Caroline sniffs playfully, reaching out for the bottle of wine and topping up her glass.

He shakes his head, but he's smiling. Klaus sets his glass aside and slides over, so his thigh is pressing into hers under the table. He reaches out and threads a curl through his fingers, tugging gently, "How might I acquit myself?"

Caroline takes a sip, watches his eyes darken as she licks a stray drop from her lower lip. Feels an answering twinge, hot and low in her belly. "Well I suppose that depends on if you were bluffing earlier."

"About?" he asks, and she bites her lip to keep in the sigh of pleasure that wants to erupt when he touches her skin.

"About not putting out."

His eyes widen, and she feels him tense, where they're pressed together. When he speaks his voice has dropped, the tiniest bit of gravel thickening it tells Caroline that he wants her just as badly as she wants him, "I'll get the check."

* * *

They're stumbling through the door of his condo, exchanging frantic kisses, hands wandering, fighting to get closer. Her bag had been dropped, his shirt discarded as soon as the door had shut. Caroline's phone rings and she groans, tearing her lips from his when she recognizes the sound. "Ignore it," he rumbles, teeth scraping down her throat, hands pulling up her skirt, his body pressing hers to the door.

Caroline seriously considers it, because he feels so freaking good. "I can't," Caroline pants finally when the ringing continues. She pushes him away, turning to grab her phone. "It's Bon. She'll totally call the cops if I don't answer."

Klaus doesn't try to stop her, merely slips behind her and pushes her hair aside, applies his mouth to her neck in a way that's really distracting. His hands resume their task, dragging up her thighs and taking fabric with him until she's bare, save for a scrap of lace, from the waist down. Her breath catches as his fingers stroke over the front of her panties, and she leans forward to brace herself on the door, "H-hello?" she says, mentally crossing her fingers that Bonnie hadn't noticed the catch in her voice.

"Hey, Caroline! Just checking in. How's your night going?"

"Good!" she chirps, widening her thighs as Klaus' hand dips lower. He makes a noise, an appreciative murmur he muffles in her shoulder when he finds that she's soaked through the lace that covers her.

He _might_ have detailed the things he was planning on doing to her on the car ride over, some of them filthy, _all_ of them tempting, leaving her pressing her thighs together and cursing speed limits the whole ride over. Was it any wonder she was worked up and dying to be touched?

"Oh yeah?" Bonnie wonders knowingly, "Where are you?"

Klaus pushes her underwear aside and she leans more heavily against the door, resting a forearm against it, when he traces the seam of her, barely delving into her folds. She arches her back, grinds her ass into the bulge in his jeans, smiling triumphantly when he curses and presses back. He's quick to pay her back, slipping a finger inside of her. She squirms, presses her lips together to keep from making a needy sound.

It's a struggle to keep her voice steady when he adds another, palm pressing lightly into her clit, "Not at home," she tells Bonnie, reaching with her free hand to draw Klaus' to her breast. He tugs at her nipple thorough the layers of her dress and bra, heightening her need, until her hips are rocking against his hand, breaths shallow.

Bonnie laughs ruefully, "Yeah, so I hear. I won't keep you. Have fun, use protection. Call me before noon or else."

"Love you, bye!" Caroline gasps out, fumbling for the End Call button and dropping her phone to the floor. She reaches for the straps on her dress, shoving them down, not caring that a seam or two pops audibly. She needs more of his hands on her _now_.

She lets out a whine when he pulls away, trying to trap his hand between her thighs, but he's insistent, turning her to face him, a hand spearing into her hair and tugging her mouth to his. He sucks her lower lip into his mouth for a moment sending a pang of want through her. His hands strip her panties from her, shaking slightly against her skin, his still trapped cock pressing insistently into her stomach. Caroline kicks them away, helps him tug away the rest of her clothes. Arches back against the door with a moan when his head drops, mouth hot on her nipple.

She hitches a thigh over his hips, rubbing herself against him. She'd been halfway there with his fingers inside of her, and it's beginning to ache, the scrape of his jeans against where she's sensitive leaving her shuddering, "Klaus, please. I need…"

He releases her breast and straightens, his hand dropping back between her thighs. He eases two fingers back inside of her and she clamps down with a sigh of relief as his thumb traces tight circles around her clit. "I know, love," he mutters raggedly. "And I should probably take you to bed but I can't wait. I want to see your face when you come for me. At least the first time."

She moans at the implied promise, that there will be more of this, can't wait for him to keep it. "Faster," she begs, and he speeds up, the curl of his fingers against her walls sending sparks up her spine. It's building, her thighs just beginning to shake, mouth dropping open with the bliss, when he slants his lips over hers, swallowing her cry as she comes, eyes rolling back in her head. Klaus keeps kissing her as she trembles through it, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rides it out.

She tips her head back, gasping for breath, mind delightfully fuzzy. He drops a kiss on her forehead, pulling her close, running his palms down her spine.

When she can speak again Caroline clears her throat, letting a hand wander between them to palm his cock. He groans, hips jolting as she shapes him through his jeans, pressing her lips to his neck to taste his skin. "I believe you said something about a bed?"

He's pulling her away from the door, leading her down a hallway, as soon as the words are out. Klaus lowers her to his bed, standing back and watching her ravenously as she stretches out the kinks in her muscles, "I do hope you've nothing pressing to accomplish this weekend, sweetheart. Because I plan to convince you to stay right where you are all day tomorrow. And then I plan to take you to dinner and convince you to come back."

Caroline grins up at him, drawing her knees up and parting her thighs. Unashamed because the way he's looking at her, like he can hardly believe she's real, makes it impossible for her to feel anything but secure. His widen and heat when he sees how aroused she is, skin glistening with it. She lets her hands glide up her ribcage tauntingly and the harsh bobbing of his throat is gratifying as he watches her toy with her nipples, "I think I can be persuaded," she tells him huskily.

He fulfills one of the promises he'd made in the car (the first of many) when his mouth swoops down and tastes her until she's clawing at his sheets. She pulls him up before she can finish again. Her, "Inside me," spoken against his lips.

It's a long night, a longer day. They order in, never quite managing to get dressed until it's Sunday night and Caroline has to reluctantly leave, because she's a grown up with a job and bills to pay. They text often, sometimes sweet and funny, sometimes the kind of racy that leaves Caroline fanning herself and grinning. And then Klaus shows up to her office on Wednesday to take her to lunch.

She buys Elena flowers on Thursday. Because, inadvertent or not, she'd set Caroline up on the best blind date ever.


	39. klarolineauweek2 AU:All Human

**Notes: **klarolineauweek is here again! Today's theme is AU: All human and here are my contributions. You can check the tag on tumblr or go to the everythingisklaroline blog where everything will get reblogged eventually. Thanks so much for the reviews for the last few! I really do appreciate them.

**Good Fences**

**(Prompt: AU + the electricity went out and I don't have candles au. Rated K+)**

Caroline hadn't thought much of that first rumble of thunder, the loud splatter of raindrops on the glass door of her balcony. She'd just moved in so it's not like she needed to _go_ anywhere. There were boxes everywhere (and some of the movers were _completely_ incompetent because she kept finding her _clearly_ labeled boxes in the wrong rooms).

The disorganization was driving her nuts.

She's startled by the first crack of lightening, jumps and clutches her chest. Glances around, like she expects someone to point and laugh. Living alone is going to take some getting used to. She wanders over to the windows to glance outside. Squinting down at the street below she can't make out much, the heavy rain leaves details obscure. There's the odd dot of a streetlight, but that's about it.

She shrugs, and goes back to work, arranging her kitchen cupboards. She'd stopped by a grocery store for some basics, ordered a pizza for dinner. But, if she actually wanted to be able to cook tomorrow, she still has some work to do.

The first flicker of the lights gives Caroline pause, leaves her holding her breath. She's just about to see if she can find the box with her emergency flashlight and candles in it when everything goes dark.

Yeah, she probably should have thought of that sooner.

Caroline freezes, peering into the darkness. She can make out the large shapes of her furniture, stacks of boxes, but that's about it. Taking a tentative step forward she immediately stubs her toe, letting out a curse and hopping for a moment.

"Great," she mutters, hobbling slightly. "Just great." She feels her way over to where she _thought_ the correct boxes were, digs around trying to recognize things by touch. But anything remotely candle shaped remains elusive.

She lets out a frustrated groan, setting aside the sixth box she's rummaged through. Caroline briefly considers calling it a night, and going to bed, but quickly dismisses that idea. She's way too grimy between moving boxes in the New Orleans heat and giving her new apartment a thorough scrub before unpacking.

No, a shower's a must, and tackling an unfamiliar bathroom in the dark seems like a terrible idea. There's no way Caroline is willing to spend her first night in a new city in the emergency room.

This leaves her with only one viable option – her neighbors.

It can't be that bad right? She was totally a people person.

Decision made Caroline puts her hands out, gingerly making her way to the door. The building had been quiet when she'd been moving in, people likely at work, so Caroline hadn't had the opportunity to meet anyone. She cross her fingers that whoever's door she ends up knocking on isn't completely terrible (and/or crazy), and that they had extra candles they were willing to lend her.

There's no answer at the first door she knocks at, the one right across the hall. Caroline edges her way down, until she feels another doorway. Knocks firmly, and waits for a moment.

It seems like she's in luck, because she hears movement immediately.

When the door's thrown open, and she sees the man holding a lantern on the other side, she kind of wishes she'd moved in the opposite direction. Because he's _serious_ eye candy, and she knows she looks awful. It makes sense, because who dresses to impress to unpack? No one that Caroline would be interested in hanging out with. She's wearing a ratty Whitmore tank, and an old pair of grey leggings. No makeup and her hair's pulled back in a ponytail that had gone limp and lifeless several hours ago.

So much for being lucky.

"Can I help you, love?" he asks curiously.

And her hot neighbor had a hot accent. Ugh, why couldn't she have met him when she looked cute?!

Caroline smiles brightly, shoving her sudden bout of self-consciousness aside, "I kind of hope so. I'm Caroline. I just moved in. I was trying to unpack, but I hadn't gotten to anything candle-ish yet, and the lights are out, so…"

"So you'd like to borrow some?" he continues understandingly, cutting off her ramble. Probably a good thing.

"If you have any to spare?"

He considers her for a long moment before answering. "Of course. Come on in." He steps back, opening the door wider. Caroline follows him, glancing around with interest. You could tell a lot about a guy from his apartment. She can't see much, but he seems to be pretty neat. And the couch looks super comfy. There's several small battery powered lanterns, like the one he carries, dotted around the living room. A book on the coffee table, a liquor bottle and a half full glass next to it. She eyes him carefully, but he doesn't _seem_ drunk.

"Do you do a lot of camping, or something?" she wonders.

He makes an amused noise, "No. I tend to stick to cities. But this building is old, and up until they redid the wiring last year, prone to outages."

"Huh," Caroline mutters, making a mental note to invest in a lantern or two of her own. "They didn't put _that_ in the ad."

A short chuckle and he throws her a smile over his shoulder, "No, they wouldn't would they? But, rest assured, that it's a rare occurrence these days. Only when Mother Nature is particularly temperamental."

He opens a drawer, pulls out a couple of batteries. He collects one of the lanterns and hands both items to her. "Here. Safer than candles and a bit more effective."

"Wow. Thank you. I really appreciate it," she tells him sincerely.

"Not a problem, sweetheart." He leans a little closer, growing conspiratorial, "Just keep this quiet, yeah? I've got a bit of a reputation as the big bad around here, and I'd like to keep it that way. Don't want everyone knocking on my door to borrow sugar, or tools, or any other random thing."

Caroline laughs, thinking he's joking, but his face tells her he's not. She sobers, brows furrowing, "Yeah, you're going to need to explain that one. Because you seem nice enough to me."

He shrugs, a hint of a smirk curling his lips, "Trust me, I am _not_. And nothing to explain. It's mostly a sanity saving measure. I'm not too fond of most of this building's occupants. And I like to avoid the obligatory party invites that float around."

"Are they that bad?" Caroline asks.

Klaus' expression remains poker-straight, "Let's see, there's the Salvatore brothers – one dreadfully dull, the other about the most self-important wanker you'll ever meet. He'll likely attempt to convince you to sleep with him. I'd advise you not to, because you may very well catch something. Though it is, of course, your decision. Katherine Pierce is catty and vicious, and prone to monopolizing the laundry room. There's Greta Martin, who's not a fan of other women, particularly attractive ones. Luke Parker, who I'm fairly certain is a drug dealer, and his sister, who hates everyone who she didn't share a womb with. And that's just our floor."

Caroline wrinkles her nose. "I really hope they're not that bad. Otherwise I'm going to seriously regret signing a lease. I reserve the right to make up my own mind."

"As you should," he agrees. "And I'll try not to take too much satisfaction out of telling you 'I told you so.'"

Caroline rolls her eyes, though she's a little amused, at his assured recital, "Hey ever thought that, if _you_ think everyone's terrible, it might not be _them_?"

He feigns a dramatic gasp, "Hurtful, sweetheart. When I've been so very neighborly."

Caroline shakes her head, shifting the lantern to the crook of her arm. This guy was definitely a little bit of a dick, but a charming one. And he could have slammed the door in her face, so he got points for that. She motions to the door, "I should get out of your hair. I'll drop all this off tomorrow."

"Find your candles first, love," he advises. "It's supposed to storm through the weekend."

"I'll do that. Thank you…" she trails off, hoping he'll get the hint, because she realizes that he hadn't given her his name.

Her mom would totally kill her if she ever found out about that one.

"Klaus," he supplies. "And you're welcome, Caroline."

He leads her to his door, surprises her by following her out into the hallway and to hers. He momentarily relieves her of her burden, so she can unlock the door. She smiles at him again, smooths the wisps of hair that have escaped the elastic, "I feel like I'm repeating myself a lot, but thanks."

He smiles back at her, warmer then she'd expect, from a guy who claimed not to be nice. Klaus lets his hands brush against hers when he hands the lantern back, and she'd be lying if she didn't feel a prickle of interest, wondered what a more deliberate touch would feel like. And she's not the only one, judging by the way Klaus' eyes linger on her face. "Welcome to the neighborhood, Caroline," he murmurs. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you."

**Food (and) Fights**

**(Prompt: ****Klaus is a chef and Caroline is his sous chef or a waitress (you pick!) who doesn't put up with his Gordan Ramsay behavior. He loves that, of course, because everyone else is too scared to stand up to him. Rated T.)**

She looks away from Klaus as she lifts the fork to her mouth. It smells amazing, her mouth is watering, and she already knows that it's going to be hard to act neutral, to resist the urge to slouch down and make obscene noises of enjoyment (that are probably inappropriate for the kitchen) once she's tasted the bite of food. To restrain the urge to immediately dive back in for another.

Klaus Mikaelson might be an arrogant douche (most of the time), but his food is _heavenly_. And he knows it.

The beef practically melts on her tongue, the sauce rich and pleasantly spicy. Her eyes close, just for a second, as she savors it.

Ugh, so much for playing it cool.

She opens her eyes to find him staring at her, as he always does during these meetings. There's an intensity to him, like watching her eat is the highlight of his day. The expression's there, even though he's been colder, more distant than usual today. It's a relief even as it makes Caroline more determined to find out why.

Because if she's being completely honest, testing the specials Klaus prepares weekly, spending time with him while he does it, is usually the highlight of _her_ day. It's been kind of a struggle to wrap her head around. Because Caroline is technically his boss. And that means she needs to be professional, damn it. But it gets harder and harder all the time. Right now with Klaus less than a foot away from her, his eyes dark and focused on her mouth it's almost impossible.

She wants to set the dish aside and reach for him. Slide her fingers through the curls at the back of his head and pull him into her, until he settles between her thighs and she can finally feel him pressed against her.

She's watched his hands an awful lot since she'd met him. Precise chopping, delicate plating, twirling a pencil as he'd sketched an idea for a layout change for her. They're always mesmerizing.

Caroline has long since admitted, at least privately, that she wants to know what they'd feel like on her skin.

She'd thought Klaus wanted that too, was working on convincing herself to take the leap. And then today had happened.

It's made Caroline wonder if she might be too late.

* * *

She'd met Klaus by happenstance, at the exact perfect time.

She'd weathered all sorts of snide remarks about how she had no business 'playing around' with her dad's restaurant when she'd first started making changes. A lot of condescending, "That's cute, sweetheart, but…" followed by a lecture about how the industry _really_ worked. Caroline had ignored all of those idiots, plowed ahead with her plan to rebrand William's. And she'd be lying if she wasn't immensely satisfied at having proved everyone who'd doubted her wrong, as profits had steadily ticked up in the last two years.

She was even eying the vacant property next door, dreams of expanding more possible than ever.

But Caroline had to give credit where credit was due. She'd first tasted Klaus' insanely good food at a pop up restaurant in London. And she'd known immediately, as soon as she'd finished that first app (pork belly and cranberry sauce on a toasted baguette), that she _had_ to have him. His style was exactly her vision - the perfect mix of traditional and trendy.

He'd proven elusive, in the beginning.

Oh, he'd been interested in _Caroline_, and what was under her low cut little black dress, his eyes raking over her when she'd gone to introduce herself. But he'd been in the middle of a service, barking orders at a handful of line cooks, so she hadn't been offended when he'd murmured his thanks for the compliments and offered to buy her a drink afterwards.

She _had_ been offended however, when he'd seemed amused by her attempts to talk business once they'd been settled into a booth at a nearby pub. He'd been all arched brows and disbelief, "You're trying to recruit me? I've got to be honest, love. That's not what I was expecting."

Caroline had snorted, "What? Did you think I was a groupie? That I was going to drop my panties because you're talented? Please. I've been around chefs, and chef wannabes, my entire life. You're hot but I know better. I did my research, during service. You're a legacy, your father runs half a dozen acclaimed restaurants in four countries. But you dropped out of culinary school for some mysterious reason. Have never run your own kitchen. And there's no way you don't want to. I can _give_ you that."

He'd been quiet, sipped on the bourbon he'd ordered, and she'd thought she'd seen a tiny flicker of interest in his expression. Quickly masked, but she was certain she hadn't imagined it. "Why don't you tell me your name?" he'd suggested.

It had been an opening, a tiny one. But that's all Caroline had needed.

She'd introduced herself, told him about the restaurant that had been in her family for sixty years. And her plans for revitalizing it, turning the too-traditional steakhouse into something more, something that would draw a younger crowd. Foodies, and tourists, instead of the aging regulars her father had always catered to.

She'd known exactly when she'd hooked him, had seen the gleam in his eye when she'd offered a certain amount of creative control. One he wasn't likely to get, as an untried chef, in another operation. But he'd played it cool and agreed to fly out and tour the kitchen. To look at her business plan in depth.

He'd shown up a few weeks later and Caroline had pulled out all the stops to woo him. Including a tiny bit of flirting, because Caroline fully believed in utilizing _every_ asset she'd been blessed with.

And it had worked.

Klaus had signed a six month contract, and together they'd revamped the menu. She'd even consulted him in the minor renovations she'd done – nothing crazy, because money had been tight at that time. But the place had kind of an old man hunting lodge vibe that _had_ to go. A couple more lights, ripping out the carpets, changing up the art – the bare minimum that was necessary, to make the new concept work.

They'd clashed, in the beginning. Often and loudly. Had screaming fights when the place was closed, icy silences and whispered arguments when it was filled with people. He could be harsh, demanding with the kitchen staff, some of whom Caroline had known since she was small. She'd gritted her teeth, and let him run things as he'd seen fit (because she had _promised_) but the first time he'd tried to bark orders at her front of house people she'd nipped _that_ in the bud.

Menu planning could sometimes be all out war. Specials flipped weekly, never to be repeated. Something to lure people back. Klaus favored trendy ingredients and sometimes Caroline had to put her foot down. Either they were too out there, a risk of alienating their core client base, or they were too expensive and would have blown their target price point.

Klaus was stubborn but Caroline could hold her ground. And she'd felt like he'd respected her more each time she won a skirmish.

They'd gotten better at compromising somewhere along the way. Learned to work together. They still fought, always would. But she rarely had the urge to throw things at his stupidly attractive face anymore. Caroline had been insanely nervous that he'd up and leave when his contract was up. But he'd signed another without hesitation.

And business had only gotten better since then.

The restaurant didn't do lunch service Monday through Wednesday and Caroline usually came in early on Monday, since it was so quiet, to work in peace.

Until Klaus had decided that Monday would be tasting day. It was technically his day off, but he insisted that it worked best for him. He usually showed up mid-morning, his thicker than usual scruff making Caroline's palms itch to know what it would feel like.

He'd pop his head into her office to say hi, would throw himself into one of her guest chairs and proceed to be very distracting. He was excellent at coaxing her away from her spreadsheets, getting her talking about her (admittedly limited, at the moment) like outside the restaurant.

She'd eventually pull herself together and shoo him away, and he'd go with a smirk and a promise that he'd prepare lunch.

She'd wander down to eat, at the appointed time. And they'd bicker until they agreed on the next week's specials. It was their routine, one she'd come to genuinely enjoy.

Today had been a little different, and it made Caroline nervous. Klaus had texted her instead of coming up to her office. The text itself was blunt, "In the kitchen. Be here at 1." She'd been confused, had stared dumbly down at her phone, wondering if she should text him back, or go down and investigate. See if something was wrong.

She'd decided against either course of action, rationalizing that maybe he'd just had something involved planned out for the test specials, and no time for idle chit chat. But her mind had stayed half on him, and half on her to do list. She hadn't managed to get much done.

Finally, throwing her pen down in exasperation, accepting that work was just not happening, Caroline had gotten up from her desk. Grumbled under her breath about how only _Klaus_ could mess with her when he wasn't even in the room. There was a full length mirror on the back of her office door, and she'd taken a second to shake out her hair and smooth out her sundress (telling herself that no, it didn't mean anything that, pre-Klaus, she did Monday paperwork in yoga pants with her face free of makeup).

She'd been nervous about going to see Klaus and she'd _hated_ it.

Caroline had breezed into the kitchen, forcing a casual demeanour while calling out a greeting. Klaus had grunted something unintelligible, not bothering to turn away from the pot he was stirring on the range.

And yeah, that had pretty much confirmed that he was pissed about something. Caroline had plowed ahead, lifted herself up on a prep counter. She'd kept her eyes on his back, intent on waiting him out.

She'd done it before when Klaus took to brooding. She could easily do it again.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Klaus is proving stubborn. She takes another bite of braised short rib, watches a brief, pleased look cross his features. She loves the dish, knows it'll sell well. But an idea hits her, a way to shove Klaus into talking to her. He could be annoyingly tight lipped. _Unless_ she pissed him off. And there were few buttons more effective then questioning his food. To that end Caroline wrinkles her nose, just a little, pokes at the food on her plate. Speaks hesitantly, "It's... fine, I guess."

Klaus, temperamental artiste that he is, bristles immediately. "Fine?" he repeats, incredulous. "I beg your pardon?"

Caroline lifts one shoulder, crosses her legs. "Could use a little salt, maybe? And it's kinda similar to the flank with chimichurri you did a couple weeks ago."

Now he looks insulted, "It most certainly is not," Klaus spits, his outrage thinly veiled. "That spice blend is decidedly Asian, _thank you_."

She blinks at him, her very best innocent expression pasted on, "I'm not saying it's _bad_, Klaus. Just a little… eh."

His jaw drops. "Eh?" he parrots, tone pitching high in his irritation. He stiffens and stalks closer, shoulders rigid. "Are you getting sick? That's the only possible explanation I can think of for how _wrong_ you are. Perhaps you caught something from that gentleman that was all over you on Saturday night? He did look a bit _unwashed_."

Caroline drops the act, confused at the abrupt shift. "What?" she asks, genuinely having no idea what he's talking about. "What guy? I went out with Kat after we closed. Had a drink and went home to bed. Not that it's any of _your_ business."

His face falls, the anger cooling rapidly leaving nothing but a blankness that makes Caroline wish for it back. "Yes," he says softly with a hint of bitterness. "You've made that _perfectly_ clear."

She reaches out, grabs a handful of his shirt, before he can step away. She's more certain than ever that she needs to fix this. Immediately. "Wait, Klaus. Don't."

"Don't what, Caroline?" He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, "Don't cut my losses? Don't accept that you're never going to give me a chance? I've come to love this place, sweetheart. You don't have to worry about me leaving it. No need to dangle yourself in front of me any longer."

She rears back, stung. But she doesn't release her hold on him. "_Excuse_ me?"

"Isn't that what you've been doing? I've made my interest perfectly clear. You flirt, but you hold yourself back. And I understood, because you've been busy, and wary of what people would think. So I waited. But from what I saw on Saturday you're not too busy to start something, you're just not interested in starting anything with _me_."

She's still confused, "What is it that you think you saw?"

Klaus rolls his eyes, lets out an exasperated sigh, "He was quite literally in your lap, Caroline."

It clicks. She and Kat had gone to a bar across the street, had run into an old friend. She hadn't seen Klaus there, but it was kind of a regular hangout for the restaurant staff so she's not surprised that he was. "Enzo? You're talking about Enzo? Jesus, Klaus he used to be a host here. Worked his way through school. He's my friend and he was drunk. That's it. I called his _girlfriend_ to come pick him up."

Klaus stills, and looks more embarrassed then she's ever seen him. Caroline wouldn't have thought it possible, as self-assured as he always seemed to be. He glances down, and then back at her. Winces when he sees the look on her face. She hadn't forgotten the not so nice accusation he'd thrown, and she wasn't going to let it go.

He reaches out slowly, watching her face to gauge her reaction. Klaus rests his hands on her knees when she doesn't swat him away. She lets go of his shirt, lifts an expectant brow.

"I think I may owe you an apology," he begins sheepishly.

"You think?" Caroline asks sharply.

"Alright, fine. I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. But you've been dodging me for ages. I was beginning to think there had to be a reason."

"Uh, yeah. I've had way too many old guys try to pat me on the head and tell me that my plans are adorable, but never going to work. That little 'ol me shouldn't try to play with the big boys. What do you think they're going to say when they find out I'm sleeping with my head chef?"

Klaus contrite expression gives way to a smirk, his eyes lighting up as his hands drift up higher on her thighs, "So you do plan on sleeping with me then? Good to know."

She glares at him, but she's fighting a smile, her hands landing on his shoulders. She can't resist one last dig, "Pretty arrogant for a guy who sucks at seasoning."

Instead of replying he tugs on her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the counter. He slants his mouth over hers, licking past her lips and stroking his tongue over hers in a way that has her arching into him and wrapping her legs around his hips. She gets her hands in his hair, tugging his head to the side and sending a moan rumbling through him.

She kisses him until she's breathless, tearing away from him and sucking in a gasp when she needs air. Klaus' mouth drops to her throat, his teeth scraping a sensitive spot that leaves her panting. He nudges the strap of her dress aside, lips dragging over her shoulder. Caroline hates to stop him, but she has to. Stupid professionalism. "I'm totally not sleeping with you in this kitchen, Klaus. That's such a health code violation."

He laughs, and she feels it against her skin. "Someone's getting a bit ahead of herself. Perhaps I want to be wooed," he murmurs teasingly, pulling back to look at her.

His thumbs are stroking her inner thighs, under her skirt, and it takes her a second to focus on his question. She pushes him away slightly, "You are so full of it. If I asked you to take me to my office, lock the door, and do very dirty things to me, would you really say no?"

Klaus' eyes widen, growing hot, "Far be it for me to refuse a lady's wants."

Caroline grins, shifts off the counter, and relishes the curse he grits out as her body slides down the length of his. She slips her hands up his shirt, strokes over the taut muscles of his abdomen. "Tempting, but the prep cooks will be here in forty-five minutes. And I'm going to need more time if said dirty things are going to be worth my while."

She scrapes her nails over his skin, watches his lashes lower in response. He swallows hard, hands coming to rest on her waist when he asks his next question, "Can I take you out later?"

Caroline bites her lip, pretends to think about it, just to make him squirm, "Yes. We'll get a drink, and if you're charming enough…" she trails off suggestively, tracing a fingertip along the line of his belt.

"I'm very charming, love. Trust me. And very interested in making things worth your _while_."

Caroline's glad to hear it, pulls him in for one more quick kiss. He's reluctant to let her go, but she turns to leave. She can't resist getting the last word, tossing one last taunt over her shoulder, "I guess it's a good thing neither of us has to work early tomorrow, isn't it?"

His pained groan keeps her smiling for hours.

**This One's On Me**

**Prompt: KC + stripper/college AU + "we've got this British guy as substitute art professor and well, this is awkward, you're one of my regulars/I gave you lap dance last night" Title from 'Striptease' by Danity Kane. Smut.)**

Her professor is late (again – the man was a sweetheart, but the epitome of the 'absent minded' stereotype. All tweed jackets and mussed hair, a battered briefcase that seemed to be held together with luck and little else). Caroline's got her head down, going over her notes on labor markets. This art history class had nothing to do with her major, but she was getting her distribution requirements out of the way so she could really focus on next year, her final one.

The students are just beginning to get restless, and the hall is filled with quiet conversations and restless shifting. She expects someone to invoke the ten minute rule any second now.

But they're out of luck, because the door creaks open. Caroline glances up, expecting her familiar professor, harried and offering apologies.

But that's not who comes through the door.

Caroline cringes, when she recognizes the man, a soft curse spilling out as she slouches deep into her seat. The guy a couple chairs down gives her a strange look, but the vicious glare she shoots back leaves him gulping nervously and facing forward.

This was so not good.

She's not ashamed of what she does, how could she be? Working three nights a week pays her bills and keeps her mostly out of debt, something very few of her peers can say. Her mom's sheriff's salary wasn't exactly up to the cost of Caroline's Ivy League school, and scholarships didn't cover everything either. Her shifts dancing at a 'Gentleman's Club' did and left enough left over so she didn't have to scrimp and scrape for occasional indulgences.

But there was a reason she drove an hour and a half into New York City every Thursday afternoon, took advantage of a friend's couch over the weekends. And that was to lessen the likelihood that she'd run into someone from school, someone who would think she _should_ be ashamed of stripping.

Never mind the fact that whatever douchebag dudebro who tried to harass her would never have known about her part time occupation if _he_ hadn't been at a strip club in the first place. Those types weren't great at recognizing hypocrisy. No, they'd whisper 'slut' and assume that her stellar class ranking had nothing to do with her brains, or the fact that she worked her ass off to get the grades she did.

Caroline took great pains to avoid that particular potential awfulness.

And she was kinda pissed that it was entirely possible her cover was blown. All because Klaus, the guy setting up papers at the lectern, was one of her regulars.

He'd first shown up almost a year ago, a 21st birthday party for a dark haired smirker who'd called her a 'tasty little thing' and passed out halfway through a lap dance.

Klaus had rolled his eyes, and helped her up, gingerly extricating his friend's head from where it had landed on her cleavage. He'd offered her a smile, and had managed to keep his eyes trained on her face. He'd handed her a hefty tip. "Sorry, love. Kol's not one for pacing himself," he'd apologized ruefully.

She'd eyed the birthday boy, who'd been dangerously close to falling out of his chair. "I can see that," came her dry reply. She'd then glanced at the rest of the party, none of whom had seemed to be in a much better state. "Do you want me to get a bouncer to help you carry him out?"

He'd let out a sigh, sounding long suffering and so incredibly done. "I'd appreciate it. We've a gaudy monstrosity of a limousine outside."

The unconscious guy had been wearing a crown, and holding a sceptre, so that seemed only appropriate to Caroline. She'd slipped passed Klaus with a polite nod, and made her way backstage.

She'd been due for a break anyway.

She'd forgotten about him quickly, hadn't even known his name at the time, even if she'd noted his attractiveness in a distantly appreciative sort of way. A decent number of hot guys strolled through the doors, made eyes at her while she danced. And she flirted back, to an extent – a flutter of lashes here, a coy lick of her lips there - mindful of tips. But she'd never been tempted to cross the lines she'd drawn. She kept her work life and her life-life strictly separated. Caroline Forbes didn't exist inside the four walls of the club and 'Mysti' ceased to exist the second her heavy stage makeup was scrubbed off.

Was it a little complicated? Sure. But Caroline made it work.

Until Klaus started coming back.

It had become harder and harder to keep things separate ever since that fateful birthday party. Once just a random designated sober friend Klaus managed to become something more. He watched her dance, his eyes dark and greedy, tracing the lines of her body with such _heat_. He looked a little pinched sometimes, when she was dealing with other customers, the set of his jaw tense. He kept his distance though, never lashed out, never bit out snide comments about 'selling herself' like a certain ex-boyfriend.

They talked occasionally, he'd sidle up to her at the bar, order another drink while she waited for a bottle of water between lap dances. She'd wave the bouncers away, because he never tried anything. Didn't attempt to slide his hands over any of her bare skin, coerce her into leaving with him for a 'private show.'

The security at the club didn't stand for that and neither did Caroline. Her parents had been pretty insistent she learn the basics of self-defence when it had become clear that their pretty teen daughter had a bit of a boy crazy streak. She had no problem applying her knee to the crotch area of hands-y drunks.

Klaus always asked her how her night was going, complimented her performance. Called her ravishing, in a way that managed to be admiring without a hint of lechery. Impressive, but Caroline allowed for the possibility that the accent just made the words seem prettier. He'd told her his name, in one of their early chats, but never asked for hers. He'd sprinkle in dry comments about the other patrons that had her biting her lip to hold in a smile. But he always knew - would light up and appear very pleased with himself. She'd find herself leaning closer, bantering back, tempted to be the one to reach out and _touch_. Until duty called and she had to get back to work.

It was almost a relief, walking away from him. She had a hard time being 'Mysti' during those brief conversations and little bits of Caroline began to bleed through. Which was a problem she'd never been able to solve, hadn't even tried all that hard.

Klaus was there, every other week, like clockwork. Katherine, her boss, had taken her aside, asked if he was bothering her, made it clear that she'd be perfectly willing to 'ban his ass if he's being a creeper, even if he buys the good shit.'

Caroline had assured Kat that she had it handled, and she should keep stocking the top shelf bourbon that Klaus preferred.

She'd never seen him outside of the dim club, kind of thought she never would, hence the reason she had practically slid to the floor of the lecture hall at the sight of him.

He looks up once he's gotten organized, a faint smile on his face, scanning the room. Clearing his throat he says, "Hello. My name is Klaus Mikaelson, and I'm working on my MFA. Your professor had a family emergency, and his usual TA's out sick, so I'm afraid you'll have to bear with me as I muddle through."

Caroline hears several giggles, of the breathy impressed variety, notes that most of her female classmates having perked up. Not that she blames them. He's not dressed all that differently than usual, only lacking the dark jacket. He's just wearing a thin grey henley, and it clings to his shoulders in a way that's definitely noteworthy.

He wanders out from behind the podium. "I do believe you're studying the tail end of the Baroque period, yes? Not my favorite, but we'll see how you all feel about it." He sets his eyes on a girl in the front row, smiles at her warmly, "If you wouldn't mind getting the lights, Miss…"

"Lewis," she titters, standing quickly. "Jessica."

He thanks her, and Caroline can see the girl's face turn pink even from all the way across the room. Lewis comma Jessica hurries to the light switch, dimming the room. Caroline cautiously sits up, thinking he won't be able to see her in the dark, pulls the hood of her sweater over her hair just in case.

She only half pays attention to the slides, too distracted by watching him, the way he moves, the tiny shifts in his expression as he speaks of the works that flash across the screen. He wanders the room as he talks and she cringes, as he draws near, looking intently down at her notebook and scribbling nonsense.

He pauses, just for a second, so briefly that Caroline prays she's imagined it.

It's possibly the most stressful hour and fifteen minutes of her life.

She lets out a sigh of relief when Klaus clicks the projector off and dismisses them, squints when the lights turn back on. Realizes, with a sinking feeling that she'll have to walk right passed him to get out of the room. Unless she wants to be a weirdo and climb over all the seats in the middle section to go down the second aisle. Which would probably just draw _more_ attention to her. Several people have corrugated at the front to talk to him, and Caroline crosses her fingers that he'll be sufficiently distracted and she'll be able to sneak by.

Caroline tells herself that's entirely possible that he won't even recognize her fully dressed and without an inch of makeup slathered on. And then she tells herself that she wouldn't be disappointed, were that the case.

Such a lie.

A pointless one, as it turns out. Klaus looks up, at the _exact_ wrong time, just as she'd hazarded a peek in his direction as she hit the last stair. His blue eyes widen in recognition and maybe some delight. He steps forward, as if he's going to speak to her but she shakes her head, a vehement denial, and speeds out of the room.

She refuses to allow herself to feel sad, as she walks away. Caroline _liked_ her nicely compartmentalized life, thank you very much.

* * *

But it seemed as though the compartments are no longer content to stay tightly closed.

Caroline's surprised to see Klaus, when she steps out on stage. He's closer then he usually is, right in the front row. She slips in her high heels, has to grab the pole and swing around to cover.

She's been doing this for years, never gets nervous anymore. But her heart begins to beat a little faster, and the sweat on her palms might very well be a safety hazard.

A change of plans is necessary because she's so not up to her usual acrobatics. Katherine will think it's weird, but Caroline can handle her questions. Setting her back to the pole she slides down, teasingly opening her legs, running her fingertips up her thighs, flashing what's under her skirt, before closing them with a demure pout that leaves the crowd whistling.

Sliding back up she untucks her shirt, lazily letting her hands run over her body, and into her hair as she spins, pointedly avoiding looking in his direction.

She focuses on the music, keeping her movements slow and provocative, rolling her hips and arching her back. It's the longest performance of her life. Finally, she finishes her set, in her usual sparkly G-string, and struts backstage with a final kiss blown to the audience.

The applause level's about the same as it usually is, so she assumes no one's disappointed in her performance. Kat's waiting for her, with a raised brow and a robe, "Did you pull something out there? Cause that wasn't your usual style, Forbes."

"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." She shrugs into the robe, tying a tight knot to avoid Katherine's shrewd gaze.

"You sure? Because you can skip your first floor shift, if you want. The crowd's not that thick just yet and the other girl's will be fine with getting the tips."

Caroline bites her lip and considers the offer. It's generous, for Katherine. But hiding wouldn't solve anything. "You know what? Yeah, I'll skip it. But could you do me a teeny, tiny favor?"

Kat looks wary, "Maybe…"

"The guy that's been hanging around, the one I said was cool. Could you send him back to the dressing room?"

"No sex in my club, Caroline. The last thing I need is to get busted because the cops think my girls are doing something more than getting naked."

Caroline feels her face flame, "What? No!" she cries, indignant. "It's not like that."

"Please. He's been dying for a shot since he first walked in that door. And you've thrown him the sex eyes more than once, cupcake."

She splutters, her hands waving as she gropes for words, "Oh my god, Kat. Seriously? If I was interested I would not be dragging him to my tiny, curtained, not so _private_, cubicle. Second, I saw him this week. At school."

Katherine's eyes widen, understanding dawning, "Did he say something to you? Make you feel uncomfortable? Because I _might_ be able to arrange to have him roughed up. _If_ you wanted."

Kat's entirely serious and Caroline finds herself smiling. Because that was about the sweetest thing Katherine Pierce had possibly ever said and she kind of wants to hug the other woman. But Kat would kill her. "No, it's fine. I just want to talk to him, make it clear that he needs to keep what I do to himself. I think he's trustworthy but if not, well, I might take you up on your offer."

Kat nods in satisfaction, an oddly excited gleam in her eye, "Alright, if you're sure. I'll send him back and have Mason stay within earshot. Yell if you need any a kneecap broken."

She spins away, moving out into the club before Caroline can say thank you. Likely on purpose, as Kat wasn't really great at sentimental.

She makes her way back to the dressing room. Caroline ducks into her tiny area, leans into the mirror and methodically begins to repair her makeup. Her foundation's a victim of the lights this time, because she'd barely broken a sweat with her routine. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the task, trying to ignore the nerves twisting her stomach into knots.

Her hand trembles when she hears footsteps, and she sets her brush down when they pause just outside. Caroline slides the heavy red curtain back, looks up at Klaus warily. "Hi," Caroline greets him guardedly, before jerking her head to the side. "There's an extra stool over there. I think we need to get some things straight."

He looks a little amused at her brusque tone but obligingly grabs himself a seat. She turns away from him, meets his eyes in the mirror as he settles on to it. "Okay, number one, I'm going to need you to keep this away from school. If any of the trust fund legacy frat bros in my program knew about this I'd never hear the end of it."

He looks momentarily angry but his face smooths and he nods, "Of course, love. I'd not intended to say anything."

"Yeah, well calling my 'Mysti" when you saw me in class wouldn't have been exactly subtle, would it?"

He appears somewhat abashed, "Right. I'd always assumed it wasn't your real name, of course. But it was an instinct. I was just shocked to see you. Thrilled, really. Didn't really think."

Caroline studies him, the way he meets her eyes steadily. His contrition seems genuine so she decides that she might as well forgive him. No harm had been done, in the end. "It's Caroline, actually. But don't go using that one here, okay? Only my boss and a couple of the girls know it."

"I'm honoured," he murmurs.

The silence gets a little too heavy then. Caroline's suddenly very aware that they're mostly alone, and she's wearing very little. And she totally blames Kat for putting _that_ thought in her head.

Conveniently ignoring the fact that Klaus has been a pretty frequent star in her sexual fantasies.

She forces a smile, a light tone, reaching out for a hair brush so she can occupy her hands. "Why are you here, anyway? You're usually an every other Saturday guy. That makes you a week and two days early."

A tiny smirk curls his mouth, "So you _have_ noticed me."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Yes. And noticing you _tonight_ almost led to me cracking my head open on stage."

He winces, "Sorry. I'd have felt terrible. But, to answer your question, I wanted to see you. You looked rather spooked in class yesterday, and I wanted to see if I could do anything to ease that."

"Well, you have," Caroline tells him. And she's not lying. Were he a sleaze he would have tried to get something out of her before agreeing to keep quiet, but he hadn't even blinked before promising.

"And I'd like to ask you out," he continues, watching her carefully.

Maybe she'd spoken too soon.

Caroline's just opening her mouth to shut him down, but he hurries to speak. "And I'm not expecting anything. I've heard a few men attempt to come on to you, and some of your coworkers, very ineptly. I don't think your job means you're obligated to sleep with me. And I'm not assuming anything about your sexual likes and dislikes, based on your occupation."

She narrows her eyes, "Oh, really? Then why the interest?"

He shifts a bit, almost awkward, his palms running over his jeans. "I think it'll be easier if I show you. So Monday. Come to my studio space. I'll pick up lunch. Broad daylight. And we can leave the door open, if you'd feel more comfortable."

It only takes her a moment to make a decision. The idea of spending time with him outside the club, where she _can_ be Caroline is appealing. She reaches over and snatches a pad of post-its and a pen from her bag. "Write down the address."

He does so quickly, with a small grin, letting his fingers linger over hers when he hands it back. "I look forward to seeing you."

She kind of agrees, a giddy warmth building, anticipation and excitement. "Until Monday. But I'm going to have to kick you out. My first set was terrible, so I'm going to have to make up for it by getting extra fancy in the next one.

His eyes widen, mouth falling open slightly. Caroline supresses a smirk, sure that his imagination has just run wild. But he's always been uncannily good at sensing her moods, pins her with a playful glare as he stands, "You're a little mean, sweetheart."

Caroline shrugs, unrepentant, "Part of my charm."

He reaches out to toy with a loose curl, the back of his hand just brushing the silk that covers her shoulder. Caroline's surprised by how disappointed she is when he pulls back. "Have a good evening, Caroline. And do be careful, please. I quite like your head as it is."

She nods, and he retreats, leaving her with a softly voiced goodnight.

* * *

She sleeps in on Monday, skipping Art History. Rolls out of bed, throws her hair in a messy bun. Dabs on a little mascara, a swipe of lip balm. Wears jeans, flats and a grey t-shirt she's had since high school.

Caroline's determined to make it clear that she's not Mysti, just in case Klaus still has any illusions.

She's never been to the address that he'd given her, the building far from her usual haunts. She feels plain, and a little out of place, amongst all the tattoos and piercings and unnatural hair colors the students inside sport. But no one gives her a second look, and soon she's standing outside a door with 'Klaus' scrawled across the whiteboard next to it.

Caroline takes a deep breath, and straightens her spine, before knocking loudly. There's a flurry of movement on the other side, and Klaus appears, looking more unkempt than usual. He smiles when he sees her, "Caroline. You're right on time."

"Also part of my charm," she tells him, standing up on her tiptoes to peer behind him. There's paint speckled on his forearms, a few smears of yellow on his shirt.

"Right. I got a little caught up in a piece. It's been giving me trouble for a while and I didn't set things up the way I wanted to for you…" he's rambling, running a hand through his hair and she can't help but find it endearing.

"I could come back?" she offers. "I have class at 3 but if this isn't a good time for you…"

He refuses immediately. "No! No, it's fine. Come in."

He steps back, and ushers her in, his hand landing on her back for a moment. "So, I paint. Mostly. I dabble in a few other things, but painting is my favorite. Always has been. But last year, I got sort of… stuck."

"Okay," Caroline says slowly, mystified by the story. "Artist's block. Didn't know that was a thing."

That coaxes another smile from him. "Nor did I, until I found myself afflicted, and unwilling to commit a thing to canvas. But then I was dragged out for my younger brother's birthday. Unwillingly, because his friends are idiots and Kol the worst of the lot once he's hit a certain level of intoxication."

"He was your brother?" Caroline asks. "The guy who passed out in my boobs?"

"I don't always claim him," Klaus jokes. "As I'm sure you can understand. But yes, we are related. And he gave me something of a gift, that night. Even if it was unwitting."

Klaus moves away from her, towards a stack of canvases on the far side of the room. Digs through them, before pulling one out and flipping it to face her. It's a woman's torso, partially in profile, in bold abstract lines. Curves of a breast, and a hip, the indents of a spine. Black, with splashes of purple and blue.

"Is that…me?" Caroline asks, tipping her head to the side to study it.

"It is. The first proper thing I'd painted in ages. I settled my brother into bed and went immediately into the studio, my mind filled with how you'd moved, the way your skin shifted over your muscles and bones. I had to paint it, right then."

"Oh," Caroline manages, at a loss. This hadn't been what she'd expected.

"There's more," he continued. "It's why I kept going back, at first. And then I felt strange, painting you without _knowing_ you. So I started to talk to you, and that only made me want to paint you more, to see if I could capture _you_, your stubbornness and poise, in the lines and curves of your body."

"Can I see them?" she asks.

Klaus looks relieved, like he'd expected her to be angry. And she wasn't, not yet. She was still reserving the right, depending on what else he showed her. But the work wasn't lascivious at all, or overtly sexual. Didn't make her feel violated, or like an object. There was strength to the way he'd depicted her that appealed. There was no fragility, but a sense of controlled movement and power.

It's beautiful, and she wants to see more.

Wordlessly, he starts pulling canvases, and they're all much the same style. There's a study of her arm, hand clenched around the pole, the strength of her bicep hinted at. The curve of her shoulder, her face in shadow. Her crossed legs, as she twirls, the muscles of her thigh lovingly outlined. And so many more.

She's silent, for a long time, when he's finished. She takes another lap around the room, eyeing each piece in turn. "Why now?" she asks him, curious. She's yet to find anything in the pictures that upsets her. There's nothing that would give away her identity, for one. And they're very, very good. Caroline never thought she'd be anybody's muse, but she finds she doesn't hate it.

"Because I enjoy you, Caroline. But you've always been so carefully distant, when we've spoken. Hiding. Seeing you here, it made you more real, and even more appealing. I thought I'd best take a chance, or I'd regret it."

"So… you want to date me?" Caroline asks skeptically. She gets plenty of offers, but experience has taught her that some guys couldn't handle the reality of her job. "I'm not going to stop stripping, FYI. The money's too good, and I've still got a master's degree to pay for. I work Thursday through Saturday every single week and that's not going to change. Other people are going to see me ninety-five percent naked regularly. Boyfriends are strictly forbidden from the club, because that can get messy. Can you really handle all that?"

He doesn't hesitate, "Yes."

Caroline scoffs, "How do you _know_?"

Klaus steps closer, watches her carefully, before resting his palm on her shoulder. "I've thought about this extensively, love. You hide yourself, when you're on that stage. I saw tiny pieces, of who you really are, when we spoke and I managed to make you laugh. I want more of those. I want to study them, hoard them. And as long as they're only for me, I don't care about who sees the mask. Didn't you ever wonder why I never paid for a lap dance, love?"

She had, Caroline can grudgingly admit. He shelled out serious money for bourbon, but had never paid her to dance for him.

"It's because I want you to _want_ to touch me. I want your skin burning because you need my hands on it." He steps into her, as he speaks, the hand on her shoulder gliding up, burrowing into her hair and encouraging her to tip her head back. And then his lips are on her throat, a whisper of a touch that leaves Caroline shivering. Her hands, almost without permission, come up to clutch his shoulders because her knees actually feel a little weak.

Because yeah, he was totally living up to her fantasies right now. "Let me take you to dinner," he murmurs, kissing a spot just below her ear.

Her nails digging into his shirt in response, "I have class tonight," she tells him, tipping her head to the side to encourage his mouth.

"Tomorrow," he offers, voice pitched low and tempting, a palm gliding down her spine. "Anywhere you want."

She finds herself nodding, her eyes drifting shut. His lips slant over hers, but it's far too simple of a brush, and she bites back a groan of protest as he pulls away.

She's shocked at how shaky she is, and is really glad that the molded cup of her bra hides the hard point of her nipple. It's been way too long since she's felt like this.

Klaus clears his throat, and she's gratified to see she's not the only one affected, his eyes are dark and there's the faintest flush on his cheekbones. "Can I pick you up?" he asks. "Or we could meet somewhere, if you'd be more comfortable."

Out of habit, Caroline names a Mexican restaurant a few blocks from her place, asks if he knows it. Klaus nods, "I'll be there. Six?"

"Make it six-thirty?" Caroline requests. She's got class until five, and she kind of wants to pull out the big guns, primping wise. She's never been shy about going after what she wants, doing whatever it took to make things happen. She wants him, has for a while now, but had been too wrapped up in her self-imposed rules to admit it.

She's _so_ done with that.

But he's still being careful, controlled. Caroline's already plotting how she's going to make him lose it.

Klaus grins, pleased and completely oblivious to the plans she has percolating, "It's a date."

* * *

She takes Klaus' hand as they walk out of the restaurant, pulls him in the direction of her apartment. Dinner had gone even better than anticipated, the sparks she'd felt before (and forced herself to ignore) igniting and running rampant. He was dryly funny, attentive. Interested in her opinions and her plans. Passionate about art, and willing to answer her questions about it without sounding the least bit condescending.

It's definitely the best date she's been on in years. Possibly ever. And she's totally unwilling to end it with something as tepid as a simple goodnight kiss.

She might even be a rebel and skip art history again tomorrow, planning on getting _very_ little sleep tonight. Surely Klaus will be willing to offer a little tutoring? After she rocked his world, of course.

He glances down at their joined hands curiously, "May I ask where you're taking me, love?"

"My place," Caroline replies simply.

Klaus pauses, just for a moment. Caroline doesn't and pulls him along with her. "So you've decided…"

"To give you a shot, yes," she confirms, not looking at him. "You seem to get what I do better than most people. A lot of guys don't really understand that it's not necessarily about sex for me. It's a performance. And I'm great at it, and I enjoy it. Doesn't mean I want to sleep with every guy who'll throw a wad of cash at me."

He stops once more, but uses his hold to tug her back, until she stumbles into his chest with a laugh. It's muffled by his mouth, pressing against hers hungrily, his tongue practiced and determined and out for her sanity.

She opens to him with a moan, sliding her hands into his hair and pressing the length of her body against him. Her thigh slips between his, rubbing against the growing evidence of just how much he wants her. He groans, clutching her hips and rocking against her. A car drives past, something unintelligible (but probably rude) yelled out the window. They break away, Klaus with a curse and Caroline with a giggle. "So not the place," she manages, breathless from the kiss. "I'm only like two blocks away."

Klaus kisses her again, softer this time, "Lead the way."

She laces their fingers together, sets a brisk pace that he matches easily. They don't talk, content to exchange heated glances, their bodies brushing deliberately. It's the subtlest form of foreplay she's ever endured, but it raises her temperature more effectively than anything more blatant ever has.

There really is something to be said for chemistry.

Her hand shakes, as she tries to unlock her door, and the kisses he's planting on the nape of her neck are not helpful at all. When she gets the door open she stumbles through, whirling and slamming him against it so it closes with a bang, clawing at his shirt. Klaus helps her toss it aside, pulling her back and sealing his mouth over hers. His mouth is frantic, but his hands are reverent, tracing down her sides like he's memorizing the curves he finds.

Caroline's impatient, reaching up and shoving the straps of her dress aside, peeling the stretchy fabric down easily and kicking it aside. Klaus makes a noise, low and appreciative, pushing off the door and walking her backwards. His hands smoothly dispose of her bra, an arm wrapping around her back to steady her as his head dips and his tongue plays with her nipple.

Caroline arches back, a silent plea for more, and lets out a whine when he sucks roughly. They stumble, kicking off their shoes, clumsy even though neither of them had bothered with alcohol, before running into her couch. She pushes him down, climbing onto his lap, fumbling with his belt buckle. Klaus brushes her hands away, slouching back into the cushions, and the widening of his legs leaving her thighs spread over his. He runs a single fingertip over the front of her panties, stroking over the damp spot that's formed and then up higher, brushing over her clit and making her shudder. He presses harder, and Caroline lets out a ragged curse. It's not nearly enough, and she stands up. "Take your pants off," she tells him, shimmying the scrap of fabric that covers her down.

Klaus doesn't listen, sitting up and grabbing her hips. He nudges her feet apart, "In a minute," he grits out, letting his hands slip down her legs. His thumbs trace the soft skin of her inner thighs, inching back upwards tortuously slowly. "I've been thinking of this for months, Caroline. Watching you on that stage, beautiful but so controlled. I want you to moan for me love, come apart around my fingers calling my name."

She's onboard, is about to bite out a demand for him to hurry, but Klaus hooks a hand around her calve, lifting it so her knee rests on his shoulder lips brushing over her slit. "Yes," Caroline hisses out, threads her hand through his hair and pulls him into her, writhing against his mouth.

His hands clutch her ass, tilting her hips, his tongue swiping through her folds before landing on her clit. Broad licks and teasing flutters, the occasional hard pull that leaves her gasping. Her toes curl painfully, her head thrown back. He's merciless, pushing her higher, until she breaks apart with a cry, slumping forward as she shudders.

Klaus catches her, arranging her boneless limbs until she's sprawled across his lap, his voice a low rumble as he tells her that she's incredible.

A compliment she's not sure she deserves. Yet.

When she's caught her breath Caroline smiles into the skin of his shoulder, grinds her hips down against his. He's rock hard, still confined in his jeans, and a hoarse moan spills from his lips, his head tipping back against the couch. She kisses his throat, nibbles at his collarbone.

She moves against him again, slow and languid, enjoying the renewed flutters of desire it drags out of her. She stands, ignoring the shakiness of her legs. Klaus looks up at her with something like wonder. Caroline arches a brow, "Condom?" she asks

"Pocket," he rasps, reaching down for it.

"Take off your pants and put it on," Caroline instructs. She brings her hands up to cup her breasts, enjoys the heated way he watches her as she rolls her nipples. His hands are unsteady, as he strips away the rest of his clothes, rolls the condom down the length of his cock, shamelessly stroking himself as he watches her. Caroline bites her lip at the sight, finding that it turns her on more then she'd expected.

Files that thought away for later exploration.

Caroline turns away from him, lowering herself into his lap, the lean planes of his chest cradling her back. She can feel his cock, hot and hard against her ass, and he lets out a tortured groan when she lifts up, reaching below her and pressing the tip of him to her entrance. She sinks down slowly, swirling her hips teasingly as she goes, clamping down hard once he's inside of her.

He stiffens, his "Fuck, Caroline," muffled by her hair.

She gropes for his hands, pulls one to her breast and directs the other between her legs, before she reaches behind her and wraps her own around his neck. "I want you to touch me, Klaus," she tells him, waits for him to obey. And then she starts rolling her hips, a mimicry of the way he's seen her dance a hundred times.

His breath comes out in harsh pants against her skin, and she calls his name when he bites down on her shoulder, just as he begins to rub her clit.

He begins to meet her motions, pushing up and driving deeper and she turns her head, pulling his lips to hers in a kiss that's more passion then finesse. He doesn't mind, sucking her lower lip into his mouth. They move together frantically, rough and perfect, and she's just about there, but his arms band around her, slowing her movements.

She whines, high pitched and embarrassingly needy. "Klaus, please. I'm so close."

He barely moves, tracing soft circles on her clit that leave her eyes rolling back and her thighs twitching. "Slower, love," he coaxes. "We've got plenty of time." He adds more pressure, and she tries to speed up again, but he makes a noise of admonishment, "Just feel it. Isn't it good? So much better then I'd imagined," he breathes.

She nods, because she agrees. Her imagination hadn't prepared her for the reality of being with him, the callouses on his fingers dragging over her most sensitive nerves, the scent of his skin all around her. It's blissful, but Caroline can only take so much. Her muscles begin to tighten up, searching for a second release. He reads her cues perfectly, letting up so she can rock her hips a touch faster, chasing what she so desperately _needs_. The shallow thrusts leave her keening, and the pressure snaps unexpectedly, her mouth falling open in a silent scream. Her spasming muscles pulls Klaus' own finish from him. He comes with a groan, his mouth buried in the curve of her shoulder.

The pant together, almost in synch. She scrapes her nails through his hair, savors his pleased murmur. His palm rests on her belly, fingers stroking her skin soothingly.

He drops a kiss on her shoulder, and when he speaks it's with a grumble, and great reluctance, "As much as I'd like to stay here you have to get up, sweetheart."

Caroline makes a face, but she shifts, standing up to he can pull off the condom. She grabs the box of tissues on the side table, and he takes it with a grateful smile. She clears her throat, feeling strangely shy, even after everything they'd just done, "Do you want to stay?" she asks tentatively.

He looks up at her like she's insane, "Is that a serious question?"

Caroline huffs, crosses her arms over her breasts, "A valid one! We did technically just go on our first date, you know. Maybe you want to work up to the whole spending the night thing!"

Klaus rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. He stands, unashamed of his nakedness, and tugs her arms away from her body, pulling her into him. "I'd love to stay. And see your bedroom. And your bathroom. Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you'll have me."

Caroline pretends to think it over, drawling, "Well, if you're that good on the couch, I suppose I owe it to myself to see what you can do in a bed."

He laughs, gets a look on his face like he's going to be making a snarky retort. But Caroline cuts him off, with a kiss, licking eagerly into his mouth. He looks a little dazed, when she pulls back, so maybe it's cheating when she mutters, "Race you!" and darts away.

He follows, and she dodges before he can catch her, ending up on top of him across her bed.

She's pretty sure Klaus doesn't mind, at least he _seems_ fine with the turn of events, looking up at her with bright eyes when she straddles his abdomen. "I'm beginning to get that you like to be on top," he says, stroking her thighs.

Caroline throws her hair over one shoulder, kisses his chest. "Sometimes," she confirms. "But I'm pretty flexible. Figuratively _and_ literally. Totally up for experimenting."

His breaths grow shallower, as she makes her way down, tasting his skin as she goes. Whatever retort he was formulating comes out garbled, when she licks the head of his cock.

But they _do_ experiment. Extensively.


	40. klarolineauweek2 AU:Butterfly Effect

**Notes:** Klarolineauweek Day 2 drabbles! The theme was AU: Butterfly Effect so these both jump off from a canon point.

**Basic Courtesies**

**(From a prompt that has mysteriously vanished from my Tumblr inbox requesting Caroline thanking Klaus for the mini fridge. Rated K+).**

It was there when they moved in. Already unpacked. Shiny, obviously high end. Caroline's name on the packing slip under the pretty red bow that was sitting on top.

"Ooh, mini fridge!" Elena exclaims excitedly, squatting down to open it. "The fancy kind. Who's it from?"

She feels a rush of guilt, with Elena's big brown eyes looking up at her, but she quickly pushes it away. She was allowed to have friends, wasn't she? And friends gave each other gifts. Caroline swipes the envelope and rips into it, stalls by pretending to read its contents.

Unnecessarily, as Caroline already _knows_ who had sent it without a doubt in her mind. The grin Klaus had worn when he'd teased her about graduation gifts is an easy memory to recall. And he was the type to remember little things, and use them to great effect later. The New Orleans billing address confirms her hunch. Caroline panics for a moment, considering what to say. She knows Elena woouldn't take Klaus sending gifts well, doesn't really want to deal with the ensuing fit. It won't be an obvious one mind - not by Elena Gilbert. There'd be no yelling or stomping. Just a lot of heavy concern, head shaking. Sorrowful eyes and disappointed glances. All of which were even worse than a knock down drag out would be. Caroline couldn't fight back without the whole thing twisting. Somehow _she'd_ be the giant inconsiderate bitch once Elena had said all she thought she needed to.

Caroline lies through her teeth shoving the paperwork between the pages of a book. She makes a mental note of the title, because Caroline was so memorizing that address later. For practical purposes, just in case she or anyone she loved was ever dying of a werewolf bite.

"Steven!" she chirps, answering Elena's question. "Apparently he got a _great_ deal on it from a client, and personally I think he felt a little bad about being late, you know?"

Elena buys it, used to her friends receiving guilt-gifts from divorced and absentee parents, and Caroline relaxes. "There's a compartment that'll be perfect for blood bags," Elena says, standing up and heading to the door. "I'm going to go grab another box and pretend like carrying it is hard."

Caroline groans at that, and hurries to follow. Pretending to strain to lift boxes was a pain in the ass, not to mention super inefficient. They could be done in half the time with a little vamp speed and strength, would get to the much more fun unpacking, organizing and decorating portion of their new dorm lives.

But _no_, they couldn't. Blah blah blah secrecy and blah blah blah blending. Totally sucked, in Caroline's opinion.

The only possible bright side was if one of the guys who'd been hanging around and ogling her ass every time she bent over made his under the breath comments a little more loudly, maybe tried to hit on her in an extra skeezy way. Then Caroline wouldn't need to feel guilty about luring him away from his bros for a little snack.

Call her an optimist, but she thought she had a pretty good shot of treating herself to something a little fresher then the blood bags in the cooler before the end of the day.

* * *

Later, having healed and compelled Jason (a second string running back with terrible taste in shorts), Caroline drags her feet on her way back to her dorm, her cell phone sitting heavy in her pocket. Elena and Bonnie (and Megan, the dorm crasher) aren't expecting her back anytime soon. She'd told them she was going to check out the buildings where her classes were being held, plot out the quickest routes around campus.

Caroline's control freak over achiever rep sometimes served her well.

Megan had expressed some concern about her being out on her own but Caroline had scoffed, "Please, my mom's a cop, I have pepper spray, and I know how to defend myself." And the girl had reluctantly backed off.

Elena had offered to come with her but Caroline had waved her away, insisting she'd be fine. Truthfully, she'd been craving a little alone time. She'd never actually shared a room, or a bathroom, so it was going to be kind of an adjustment.

One that required a lot of teeth gritting, and forcing herself not to point out that Elena squeezed the toothpaste tube _completely_ wrong.

Plus, she's debating calling Klaus. And Elena can't be anywhere in the vicinity for _that_.

It's the polite thing to do, isn't it? He'd sent her a gift. Her grandmothers would be rolling in their graves if she didn't at least acknowledge it. Say thank you, like a properly raised young lady.

And okay, fine. Maybe she wants to talk to him, see how things are going down in New Orleans. Sue her, but it's got to be more exciting than Whitmore, Virginia. A little vicarious food, art and culture never killed anybody.

Caroline's phone is in her hand, decision made. She pulls up his contact information, settling down on a bench on a deserted patch of grass. She hits the button to dial, not allowing herself to obsess any longer, her leg jiggling nervously as she waits.

Four rings and she's thinking about hanging up, only holding on because worrying about whether he'd call her back, _when_ he'd call her back, kind of sounded like a nightmare. The call connects on the sixth, loud music and the roar of voices in the background, Klaus' rising above, "Caroline? Just give me a moment, would you?"

She hears him tell someone he's leaving, and then the background noise grows fainter. "Sorry about that, love," he says. "To what do I owe the pleasure? It is life and death already?"

Caroline winces, at the assumption, "Nope. Things are fine here. Boring, even. No bad guys or tragedies in weeks."

Klaus chuckles, "Yes, well pointing that out likely doomed you, you realize?"

Caroline shrugs, because she knows he's probably right. Things never stayed quiet for long. "I can handle it. The roommate the school sprung on us _is_ a little sketchy."

"Is she human?"

"Allegedly," Caroline grumbles.

She can hear the smile in his voice in his teasing reply, "Well, I'd advocate eating her, just to be cautious. But I'm sure you'd find such measures a touch too extreme."

She finds herself smiling, and what has her life come to that she's joking about casual murder with Klaus, of all people? "We'll see," she replies. "It depends on whether she can keep her grimy mitts off my stuff."

"That's fair," Klaus allows.

"I think so. And speaking of stuff, I actually called to say thanks. For the mini fridge. You really didn't have to get me anything."

"Nonsense. Showing up to your graduation empty handed was quite rude. Elijah would have been appalled, had he known."

"Saving my ass from those witches, and healing Damon, could have been considered a gift," Caroline pointed out reasonably.

"You don't even like Damon," Klaus shoots back.

Ugh, she really didn't. And what did it say that Klaus could say that, like it was a simple fact, that everyone should know?

"Still. Thank you," she repeats sincerely.

"You're welcome, Caroline."

They're silent for a long moment, and Caroline finds herself closing her eyes, listening to him breathe. She shouldn't miss him, but she does, just a little.

Klaus clears his throat, "Did you get the warranty paperwork? It should have been there. I didn't send a card, thinking you'd rather be discrete."

Again with the intuitiveness. "I did," Caroline confirms. "It's tucked into a copy of _Gone with the Wind_ right now."

"Good," Klaus murmurs. "So you have my direction. If you ever decide that a New Orleans style spring break is a college experience you should have, feel free to stop by and claim a guest bedroom."

Caroline snorts, "Subtle, Klaus. But no, getting drunk and flashing my boobs for cheap beads is not on my bucket list."

"Pity," he drawls, sounding amused. "Although that wasn't the culture I was referring to, when I offered you a tour."

"I should hope not. Because that's hardly going to tempt me."

"I know. But something will, I'm sure. Someday. Perhaps not New Orleans. It could be Paris in fifty years, Rome in a century. Madrid or Bangkok or Buenos Aires somewhere in between."

Her eyes widen, her breath catching in her throat. Klaus sounds very certain, and she wants to know why. But Caroline's still too afraid to ask.

He doesn't make her, changing the subject so smoothly she kind of wonders if she's crazy enough to imagine a second grand declaration. His tone shifts, becomes more casual, "I should let you go, sweetheart. Get back to my associates. But if you ever wish to chat…"

He lets the offer hang, and Caroline knows she should probably shut it down.

But she doesn't really want to.

"Have a good night, Klaus," she says instead.

"Goodnight, Caroline," he echoes, right before he hangs up.

She sets her phone down on the bench, considers going back to her dorm, putting on her very best human mask for her new roommate. Decides she really doesn't want to, just yet.

Caroline stays put, on the bench, where she doesn't need to pretend. Until her phone buzzes, Bonnie's 'Where are you?' flashing over the screen.

Caroline sends a text that she's on her way back and heaves herself up off the bench. Put Klaus, and the temptation the big wide world beyond offered, in a tiny box in the back of her mind. Duty called. She could only hope that the unpacking had gone smoothly without her supervision.

**One of Those March Days**

**(A follow up to December Never Felt So Wrong found in Chapter 27. Smut.)**

She's rudely awoken by a knock on the door of her hotel room, at 4AM. It's the fifth day of her second visit to New Orleans, and she's kind of exhausted, having only crawled into bed an hour or so earlier. She rolls over, stuffs her head under a pillow. But the knock comes again, louder and more insistent. Cursing sleepily, Caroline throws back the covers.

This had better be an emergency, or else someone was getting eaten.

It's been late nights and early mornings since she'd driven into the city. Klaus has a never ending list of places to show her, things to do. And she loves it, feels so relaxed that she almost feels guilty about it.

Shuffling towards the door, Caroline tugs her tank top back into place. Briefly debates pants, before deciding she's too tired to care. They were only legs, her mystery visitor could get over it.

The knock comes again, and she mumbles a, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," as she fumbles with the lock. She tugs the door open, leans heavily against the frame with a yawn that has her head tipping back. Squinting, she recognizes a vampire that works for Klaus. He looks hunted, eyes widening as he takes in her disheveled appearance. "Oh, hello, minion number seventeen," Caroline drawls sarcastically. "What can I do for you?"

He shifts nervously, hands buried in his pockets. "Klaus sent me. Told me to bring you to the house. There's been a threat."

That wakes her up a little. "What kind of threat?"

"The kind that Klaus is dealing with by tearing off limbs. And I've been told that mine'll be next if you're not tucked into a guest room within the hour, so…"

He looks pleading, but Caroline's still cranky about the late night wake up call. It makes her a little mean, "You know that won't actually kill you, right? They'll totally grow back."

He pales, goes a little green. And geez, you'd think a blood drinking vampire would be made of sterner stuff, wouldn't you? Caroline sighs, waves him into her room, "I'm kidding, relax. Come in, let me pack up a few things."

"Klaus said…"

She cuts him off with a withering glare, "Yeah, I'm fully aware that he's stocked his ginormous house with all my very favorite things. Trust me, we've had words about me not staying there. But I can't…"

Caroline cuts herself off abruptly, her teeth clinking together with an audible sound. The poor guy already feared for his extremities. No need to word vomit her complicated feelings about Klaus, and her current relationship with Klaus, and her attempts to keep everything tidy and manageable, at least in her own mind, all over him too.

She takes a deep breath, forces a smile that's as friendly as she can manage, "Look, I'll come quietly, and we'll be there well within your timetable, alright? But I'm taking my things with me."

He still looks uncomfortable, but nods, entering her room and making a beeline for the window. He peers outside and some weirdly complicated hand signals follow. Caroline watches with interest, and a little bit of annoyance, "Let me guess, you're not the only one Klaus sent?"

"No. You merit quite the security detail. I just drew the short straw and had to come up and convince you to come with us."

Caroline's jaw drops, as she digs out a pair of jeans, stepping into them and jerking them up, "Excuse you, I am delightful."

His face turns panicked, and he sputters for a moment, "No! I didn't mean it like that. Klaus just said that you weren't likely to want to come with us, and that we weren't to snap your neck unless it was the absolute last resort, and…"

"You should probably stop talking," Caroline tells him, clipped but perfectly serious, her anger growing. "Because I'm betting Klaus probably didn't want me to know _that_ little tidbit, and we _will_ be discussing it later."

The vampire cringes, turning away mutters, "Well, there goes my arm," before he lets the curtain fall back into place.

Caroline speeds around the room, tossing her absolute essentials and a change of clothes into a tote bag before. She slips on a pair of flip flops. When she's done, she heads to the door, tossing back, "Coming, oh bodyguard of mine?" as she breezes out the door.

He makes an irritated noise, and rushes to follow her, lifting her bag off of her shoulder. Caroline gives him a dirty look, but allows it. They're silent on the way downstairs (and she's a little annoyed that he'd vetoed the elevator like this was a spy movie) and out on to the street. It's relatively quiet, but this is New Orleans, and so there's still some stragglers heading home from bars and parties. Caroline immediately spots three other vampires, and she assumes that there's more that she's not aware of.

A slight pang of fear gives her pause, because maybe this was more serious then she'd realized. And maybe she should quit being a dick. "So what's the plan?" she asks. "Do we have to go on some weird convoluted drive now? Throw off tails, or whatever?"

Her guard smiles slightly, motions over to the black SUV at the curb. "Not quite. It's pretty obvious that we'd take you to Klaus, and no one's enough of an idiot to try to storm the compound with all of the Originals there. We'll go directly."

He opens the door for her, and Caroline slides in obligingly. He follows her and the driver pulls away the second the door slams shut, driving at a speed that seems illegal to Caroline. And kind of makes her want to put on her seatbelt, despite the fact that a car accident would only result in mild to moderate pain that would go away once she sucked down enough blood.

Old habits (and a million and one parental lectures) die hard.

It's a short drive, the swanky hotel Klaus had set her up in (after her reservation at a much more reasonably priced chain mysteriously disappeared) not far from where he lived. They pull up the driveway, right to the doors. Another SUV pulls in right behind them. Her guard motions for her to go out the opposite side, the one closest to the mansion's front door.

Caroline rolls her eyes, already over all the cloak and dagger stuff, but exits out where he'd indicated. Her beef wasn't with him, so no need to make the guy's life more difficult than it already was. The front door opens, as soon as her feet hit the ground. She looks up, barb on her tongue, expecting Klaus. But it's Marcel, and she deflates. "Hey, Marcel!" Caroline greets, falsely cheerful. "Fancy meeting you here. Are you being guarded, or doing the guarding?"

"Little bit of both," he tells her, with an easy smile. Caroline finds herself returning it, mostly because it's hard not to. She'd been introduced to Marcel on her first visit, had been incredulous when Klaus had relayed the tale of how he'd raised the man. And kind of shocked that he seemed so well adjusted, but she kept that part to herself. She liked him, his easy charm and quick laugh, and the way he refused to cower in Klaus' presence like so many people seemed to. "Not sure when Klaus will be back. He said to set you up in…"

"The blue bedroom? Across from his?" Caroline guesses. It was the same one she'd stayed in before, and she suspected had been decorated with her tastes in mind. It was incredibly presumptuous, but Caroline was more annoyed that Klaus had been right to do it. She had shown up, of her own volition, after all.

Marcel nods, and Caroline reaches over and wrestles her bag away from Klaus' minion, "I'll take that, thank you. I've been delivered, as promised. Unharmed. And now I'm back to being pissed." She stomps away, ignoring Marcel's laugh. It's a teeny bit childish, she recognizes. But if Klaus, Mr. 1000 year old immortal hybrid, could throw the occasional tantrum why couldn't she?"

She ignores everyone that she passes, _so_ not up to making polite conversation. She finds the correct room, fully intending to enter and flop down onto the bed to silently scream into the pillows. But she pauses, her eyes catching on Klaus' room across the hall, noting the slightly ajar door.

Caroline hesitates for only a second, before stepping over and pushing it wider. The covers of his bed are mussed, his closet door open too. The lights are on, like he'd left in a hurry. She crosses the threshold, before she can really think about if she _should_.

She'd spent hours upon hours of her last visit there, had decided to try and avoid that, this time. Because she hadn't come to New Orleans for sex. Just for company, a little breathing room.

Her visit over Christmas had been incredible, exactly what she'd needed at the time. She'd returned to Mystic Falls feeling more like herself, and ready to tackle her next semester at school. But it hadn't been long before she'd felt herself starting to drift. She liked her classes, was pretty consistently kicking ass in them, to the point that they were sometimes kind of boring. And then there was Bonnie, and Bonnie's determination to break Elena's curse. Caroline kept getting sucked in the research, to errands of the supernatural variety.

Fun, exciting, adrenaline rushes, puzzles that actually challenged her. It made getting back into the college routine even harder.

And sometimes she wondered why she bothered. It's not like she had parents to disappoint with her potential drop out status.

But that was quitter talk, and Caroline Forbes wasn't a quitter.

She handled it for as well as she could, ate her feelings and took long punishing runs. But she'd felt the same feeling she'd battled in December creeping up on her, knew she was close to snapping. So she'd called Klaus. And spent an embarrassingly long time babbling about her problems.

And he'd listened patiently, asking occasional questions, but letting her go at her own pace.

"Sounds like you need another break, love," he'd observed innocently, after she'd run out of words.

Caroline had privately agreed. And while popping down to NOLA for periodic stress relieving sex marathons _sounded_ like a good idea in theory, she knew that it just wasn't practical. Klaus had been up front about the things he felt for her, and while Caroline wasn't there, she knew she very well could be, someday.

No need to hurry that along.

She had so much she wanted to do and see before then. Settling down at twenty would have been nuts had she been a regular old human, it was out of the question for a vampire with lifetimes stretching before her.

As if he'd sensed her unease (and Klaus was good at reading her, so maybe he had) Klaus questioned her when her silence dragged on, "What's the matter, Caroline? You had fun, the last time you were here, did you not? And we haven't even scratched the surface of all that culture I promised you."

She'd groped for the right words, found them completely absent. "I just…"

"You just…" he prompted, beginning to sound confused.

"I don't want to lead you on," she'd blurted out. And then immediately felt mortified. "Oh my god, that came out conceited. I know you're not like, pining for me or whatever. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you're in bed with another person as we speak. Because why wouldn't you be, right?" She'd forced a laugh, high and unnatural, cringing the entire time.

Mercifully Klaus interrupted her, sounding more amused then offended, "Caroline, I can assure you that I'd never be so impolite as to carry on a conversation about your personal troubles while I had company. And it's only 11 AM. And I am perfectly capable of recognizing that you're not in the market for a deep commitment at this point in your life."

She'd blown out a breath, unsure of what to say. Had settled on, "Oh. So…"

"We're friends, are we not? Who's to say there can't be occasional benefits to that friendship, while you discover what you want out of your immortal life?"

Caroline had snorted, "It's now officially my mission to hear you say fuck buddies. Because I think it'll be hilarious."

"Well then you probably shouldn't have told me that, hmm?" he'd pointed out, sounding annoyingly reasonable.

"What if I'm not interested in benefits?" she'd asked, more for curiosity's sake then anything. She'd pretty much given up on anyone other than Klaus ever starring in her fantasies. And the idea of getting to live them, with only the strings that already existed attached, was incredibly tempting. But there was a teeny voice in her head, grating and forceful, that told her Klaus wouldn't be interested in her without the promise of sex.

But Klaus hadn't hesitated, "Up to you, love. I was perfectly content to leave you in peace in the guest room, if you'll recall. I enjoy your company, publically and privately."

She'd bit her lip, to keep in the grin his words inspired, despite the fact that there was no one around to see her. Because they were perfect, and just what she'd needed.

"I guess I'll price out hotels then," she'd replied, trying to sound casual.

That he'd objected to, sounding offended by the idea, "Whatever for? I've more than enough space to accommodate you."

But Caroline had insisted, held her ground as they'd bickered.

And then _again_, once her booking had mysteriously disappeared.

And now here she was, in Klaus' bedroom.

It was almost funny, if she really thought about it. Caroline had tried so hard to keep things casual, to prove that she and Klaus could be friends. They'd done a fair approximation of it, over the course of her visit. He remained an exceptional tour guide, told fascinating stories, and made her laugh. Had only touched her perfunctorily, a hand on her back here, a brush of his arm against hers there.

But she'd sensed him watching her sometimes, a weight to his gaze that made it clear that he had to think about his actions, that the restraint was a choice, and not something he wanted.

And she appreciated it, honestly. Even as she'd kind of wondered why _she_ was holding back.

Caroline throws her bag down on his couch, flopping down next to it and kicking off her sandals. She puts her feet up on the coffee table, and glances around for a remote control. Finds it, and seriously considered snooping through his DVR recordings.

Manages not to. Barely. Mostly because she'll be disappointed if she found out it was all boring history documentaries and films with subtitles. She liked to imagine that Klaus had a ridiculous secret addiction to competitive cooking shows. Maybe recorded the Westminster Dog Show.

Better to maintain a little mystery.

Caroline finds a movie she'd seen a million times, an old teen comedy that she and Elena and Bonnie used to watch at sleepovers. She tries to keep her ears focused beyond the room, wants to be ready when Klaus comes back, so she could work herself back up about him being so freaking overbearing. Properly convey just how not cool she thought it was. But her eyes droop, and the couch is crazy comfortable.

So of course she falls asleep.

She's awoken far more pleasantly the next time, her head buried in Klaus' bare shoulder as he carries her. She finds herself inhaling deeply, recognizing that he's just showered, her lips brushing against his skin when she mumbles, "I'm mad at you."

She feels it when he laughs, his chest moving against her. "Even while I'm so kindly saving you from that dreadfully cramped sleeping position you'd adopted?"

He sets her down on a bed, and she realizes he's brought her to the guest room, from the weak light coming in through the windows. Softens slightly, because he really didn't have to go to the trouble. She doesn't fight him, when he shifts her to pull the blankets up and over her shoulders. "Vampire," she grumbles up at him, turning over and getting comfy. "Cricks are temporary."

It's a struggle to stay awake, and Klaus reaching up to smooth her hair away from her face doesn't help. His fingertips linger on her cheek when he pulls back, and she finds herself sighing softly, "Sleep, Caroline. I promise to listen to you berate me to your heart's content tomorrow. In fact, I have an activity planned that should be most helpful in venting your anger."

Caroline's drifting off before she can muster the focus to think on that statement any harder. But it was definitely suspicious.

* * *

"I am fully aware of the fact that you're a serial killer, you know. So it's a little sketchy that you're taking me deep into the woods."

Klaus seems unbothered by her sniping, "Nonsense, love. We've spent plenty of quality time in the great outdoors, have we not? Adventuring, burying bodies," he throws a look over his shoulder, heated and mischievous, "Etcetera, etcetera."

She rolls her eyes, huffs in exaggerated annoyance. Doesn't fool him, judging by the soft laugh he lets out. "We're almost there," he tells her. "Might as well hurry up." Then he's flashing, speeding away from her. It's instinctive to give chase, and she feels her face change, her vision sharpen. Slides to a halt, her boots kicking up hunks of earth, when she catches up to him in a large clearing.

Caroline glances around, sees nothing of note. Klaus has stripped out of his jacket, tossed it aside. His eyes linger on her monster's face with great interest, and she realizes he's only seen it when they've been having sex, her lips stained red with his blood. Her ears heat but Klaus he refrains from commenting. "What are we doing out here?" Caroline asks.

"We're going to fight," Klaus tells her calmly, pushing up his sleeves.

Not exactly news to Caroline. "Um, yeah. We do that all the time. Why did we have to come out to the middle of nowhere when I totally could have yelled at you in the comfort of your fancy office?"

"Physically, I mean. In addition to our usual exchanging of words. Elijah gets quite touchy when I break things, so I thought it best we remove ourselves from anywhere there's priceless antiques."

"What?" Caroline finds herself squeaking, "Why would we _do_ that?"

"Simple, really. Your presence, and my reaction to it, has been noted. Last night I killed the most pressing threats to your safety in a manner that will discourage others from similar courses of action. But, there's always an individual more idiotic out there, so I can't guarantee that it won't be attempted again."

Caroline's skeptical, "So, are you telling me that you'll stop sending vamp SWAT teams after me if you think I can defend myself?"

He actually laughs, "No, of course not. I'll take no chances with your safety, love."

And yep, she's right back to being pissed off. The insinuation that she can't take care of herself making her blood boil. Caroline lunges for him, but he dodges, leaving her stumbling passed the spot he'd been standing. Klaus tsks disapprovingly, "Sloppy, sweetheart. I'm sure you can do better than that."

Caroline swallows a growl, whirls to face him. He looks entirely too relaxed, and it fans the flames of her annoyance. Caroline finds her knees bending, her hands balling into fists, as she studies him carefully, shifting slightly.

Klaus grins, clearly pleased, as he follows her movements, "Good. You have speed, and strength, but that's only a start. You need to learn to outthink your opponents, because it's possible they'll be older then you. Likely even, given your relative newness to this life."

She absorbs his words, because she's not an idiot. She's still not remotely happy about his high handedness yesterday, how he'd snapped his fingers and had his underlings remove her from her hotel. But she recognizes the opportunity he's offering her, and she does love to learn, adores a new challenge. She's not afraid to fight, knows that it's unlikely that she'll never need to. She's not Elena, with men coming out of the woodwork to throw themselves in front of danger for her. And she wouldn't want to be.

Caroline's confident in her ability to handle herself, and whatever Klaus teaches her can only make her more so.

She's more cautious in her second attack, throwing her left fist in a wide arc, and trying to jam her foot into his knee. He blocks her kick neatly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her off balance, her shoulder crashing into his chest. He gets his arm under her throat, "Better. But I could snap your neck right now, and this would all be over."

Caroline jams her elbow into his stomach, and his grip loosens enough for her to slip away from him. She gets behind him, kicks at the back of his knee. Klaus dodges, sweeping his leg out and knocking hers out from under her. Lighting fast he reaches out, grabbing her arm just before she hits the ground. Pulls her up, lets her straighten her clothes. "You're going easy on me," Caroline complains.

Klaus doesn't deny it, "For now. I've no doubt I won't be, once you've learned a thing or two."

He's probably humoring her, but Caroline takes it as a personal challenge. Doesn't wait for him to prompt her before attacking again.

He'd really kind of asked for it.

* * *

They're at it for hours, and Klaus is true to his word, parrying back her blows with more force and speed, his movements growing more complicated, once he thinks she can handle it. When the sun begins to set, she's filthy. Her shirt's torn (courtesy of a tree he'd tossed her at) and her hair's a windblown mess. She's panting and a little sore.

She's also really _happy_.

Something she realizes when Klaus has her pinned against a tree.

Caroline can't help the bright smile, the laugh that bubbles out. It only grows, loud and carefree, at the bewildered expression on Klaus' face. He eases up the pressure, still looking confused. Caroline's hands fly out, knotting in his shirt, before he can move too far away. "Alright, love?" he asks, peering at her curiously.

"The best I've been in a while," she answers immediately and honestly.

And then she has another 'screw it' moment exactly like the one she'd had in his bedroom at Christmas. Where she was sick to death of overthinking, just wanted to feel for a while. He seems to recognize it, an eyebrow creeping up, "Caroline," he drawls, his hands going to her waist.

"Say fuck buddies," she demands playfully.

"No," Klaus denies. But she can't care about being thwarted when his hands drop to her ass and lift.

Caroline wraps her legs around his hips, bracing her back against the tree, "You are zero fun, Klaus," she complains, winding her fingers into the necklaces at his throat.

She's sure he wanted to protest that, but she kisses him, before he can, scraping the nails of her free hand through his hair and tilting his head. Her fangs are out, she'd long since stopped trying to force them back, the adrenaline of the fight too strong. Caroline moans when they cut into his lip, latches on and sucks the tiny stream of blood. Klaus' hips push into hers more roughly, an answering groan rumbling through his chest, trapping her against the tree and grinding into her center.

He'd been more controlled then she was all afternoon, but when she pulls back his eyes are gold, and she doesn't even hesitate, before tipping her head and baring her neck. Klaus grits out a curse, runs his nose down the line of her throat. But he doesn't break the skin, and she whines when he pulls away, setting her down. Klaus' hands rush between them, tearing at her jeans, breaking the button off and shoving the denim down her thighs.

Then he bites her, just as his hand slips into her panties.

She's been wet forever, his body against hers all day a distraction and a temptation. Caroline sobs out a moan, as his fingers slip into her in one slick movement, his palm teasing her clit. He hooks them inside of her as he drinks, unerringly finding the spot that leaves her vision blurry and her thighs shaking, rubbing it until she's panting.

Her legs can barely hold her, when he's done and pulling back.

He meets her eyes as her licks her blood from his lips, sucks the fingers that had just been inside of her immediately after. Makes a wild noise of enjoyment, "I can't decide which tastes better, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Together they're divine."

She lunges, and this time he catches her, wrapping a hand around her neck as she licks into his mouth. Caroline can taste her arousal, and her blood on his tongue, and it makes her _burn_. She lets out a high pitched noise of her own, her want making her inarticulate, frantically tearing his shirt off.

She's not sure who pushes who, but they tumble to the forest floor, and he's rolling her onto her back. He's no kinder to her shirt then she'd been to his, and it comes off in little more than scraps, discarded without concern. One finger snaps the front of her bra open, and his hot mouth wraps around a nipple as soon as it's revealed, his hands tight around her ribcage.

It feels incredible, her back bows when he uses his teeth. But foreplay is for beds, and Caroline needs Klaus inside of her. She flips him over, clawing at his belt. She's barely torn it away when the world spins again, and sticks and tiny pebbles are biting into her skin. It's déjà vu, and not in a fun way, "We are not doing _that_ again," she rasps out. "Take off your pants and fuck me."

His jaw clenches, eyes drifting shut as he goes rigid above her. Only for a second, and then Klaus uses full hybrid strength and speed, tearing the rest of their clothes away, and hitching one of her thighs over his forearm. There's no easing, he's inside of her in one firm plunge, but it's exactly what she'd wanted, rolling her hips up into his with a sigh, encouraging him to move.

He's fast and rough and she loves it, calling his name, voice wrecked and hoarse, when he manages to hit the perfect spot, nails drawing blood from his back when he grinds against her clit.

Her heads tips back sharply, her back arched to rub her nipples against the lean muscles of his chest, and she's riding the edge of something big. Klaus seems to know it, eyes hot on her face in the fading light, his lips tracing the skin of her throat. She feels his fangs, and she clenches down, just before she feels the sting of his bite. It hits her like a wave, muscles locking as she shouts her release, distantly registering Klaus' groan as his hips jerk frantically.

He's still inside of her when he rolls them again, cradling her head and pulling it to his throat, urging her to drink. The taste of him sends new flutters of pleasure through her, leaves him gasping, his cock hardening once more, as she writhes on top of him.

Klaus' hands run up her spine, and there's a question in his eyes when he looks up at her. She smirks at him, pulls herself up so her mouth hovers over his, "Still won't say it, huh?"

He lets out a long suffering sigh, but his eyes are laughing. He enunciates carefully, "Fuck buddies."

"Yes!" Caroline crows. "Totally as weird as I pictured. You're accent's way too fancy to make it work."

He looks around skeptically, at the haphazard piles of disturbed earth, "This is the opposite of fancy, love."

Caroline shrugs, unconcerned, undulates her hips and watches his lashes flutter in pleasure, eyes almost glowing in the low light, "I don't mind. We do good work in the forest."

Klaus grins, a challenge, and he sits up, spreads her thighs over his lap so he sinks deeper into her body, but keeps his hands clamped to her hips so she can't move, "We do good work in a bed, too," he points out. Sounding impressively nonchalant, considering she can feel the tautness of him, his muscles pulled tight with his continued restraint.

Caroline ducks her head, licks along the cords of his throat, "Later," she breathes out, her thighs clamping tightly to his sides.

It seems to be what he'd wanted to here, and he pulls her up along the length of his cock, lets her drop down. Caroline's head falls back with a groan, her hips picking up a rhythm he has no trouble matching. She comes again, but he doesn't, flipping her over onto her knees before burying himself back inside of her.

They wreck the clearing, and when they leave, the sky inky black above them, Caroline's secretly kind of pleased that she's left a mark on New Orleans.

She and Klaus haven't solved anything, but maybe they don't need to. Maybe they don't need labels; maybe they can just be whatever they want to be at any given time.

Because Caroline's come to accept that time is one thing they have in abundance, is slowly coming to realize that Klaus is something she'll likely never shake.

She's not all in, not yet. But he'll wait. She thinks he'll know when she's _sure, _maybe even before she is. Caroline knows herself well enough to admit that she'll probably be due a freak out or twelve right around then_._

He'll let her, and then he'll chase her. Because when the time comes Klaus won't be satisfied with less then everything.


	41. klarolineauweek2 AU: Adversaries

**Notes:** klarolineauweek Day Three drabbles! For AU: Adversaries. The day my plans went VERY awry. The second prompt wasn't supposed to have smut, but then it did, so I threw the first one together last minute. Hope it's still okay! Quick question: I'm considering starting a new doc and marking this one complete once we hit 50 chapters. Yay or nay? Is it easier if everything's together or does is get kind of unwieldy after awhile? Let me know if you have a preference and thanks for reading!

**Have You And Grab You**

**(Prompt: Klaus and Caroline have younger siblings who are in the same grade. There's a class fundraiser and they're competing over who can sell the most boxes of candy. Title from 'Cherry Bomb' by The Runaways. Rated K+)**

Caroline hadn't _intended_ to spend her summer vacation helping Jeremy Gilbert sell chocolate bars. It had just kind of happened.

Okay, fine, it wasn't so much 'helping' as it was completely taking over. Was it Caroline's fault that Jeremy was a slacker with zero entrepreneurial instincts? She didn't think so. And he (and his classmates!) would totally thank her when they were staying in a nice hotel on their class trip.

That's what she told herself. But mostly she was just so very _bored_.

Caroline had initially been a teeny bit apprehensive about leaving Mystic Falls, scared she'd drown in the bigger pond that was Loyola University. But, much to her relief, that hadn't happened. She'd swum just fine, flourished even. Katherine, her assigned roommate, had turned out to be awesome even if she'd been scary upon first impression. Kat had a knack for finding the best parties, and was the greatest wingwoman in the history of time. She was confident, and fun and a big part of the reason Caroline had come to love New Orleans.

Caroline had embraced a bigger city, hadn't been the least bit homesick. But she'd decided to come home for the summer, had strong armed herself a paid position in the mayor's office. She'd been kind of worried about her mom, assuming that Liz Forbes barely left her office without Caroline at home to check up on.

It was probably true, and would remain true once Caroline went back to school in the fall. But, at least for the summer, Caroline could ensure that her mom got some fresh air, and interaction with humans who weren't criminals or other cops.

She'd just kind of forgotten how _slow_ Mystic Falls was. And it was driving her insane. Caroline's work was cake (after she'd straightened out the appalling filing system) and she was done by 3 PM every day. There was literally one bar in town, and her fake I.D. wasn't going to fool people who were well aware that she wasn't 21 yet as they'd known her since she was an actual baby. And sometimes managed to forget that she wasn't anymore.

She'd fallen in with some of her old high school friends, had a good time catching up, even if things felt a little distant and weird. Elena hadn't ventured far – went to Whitmore and lived with her boyfriend (mildly scandalous since he was older, and had a less than stellar rep). But dirt didn't really stick to Elena's veneer of perfection, so other than the odd whisper no one gave her shit about it.

That renewed friendship was how she'd found out about Jeremy being a miserable failure at effective fundraising.

Elena worked at her dad's clinic, and Caroline had popped over for lunch, noted the chocolate on display and recognized it. It was the same company Mystic Falls High had always used, and Caroline had been no slouch at raising money in her day.

Caroline had asked Elena how it was going. Her first mistake. Elena had rolled her eyes, "It's not. Like at all. I think the only boxes that have been sold are people who've bought them here. And that's not a lot, since people aren't exactly dying to eat chocolate after a physical, you know?"

Something had clicked, the lure of a challenge. Caroline had tried to resist, really she had.

But Caroline never could resist a project. The first case she'd taken off of Elena's hands and brought to the Mayor's office had sold in no time, the group of workers repairing the stone façade easy prey to a pretty girl offering sweets.

The second two cases had been sold to the mayor herself, Caroline easily convincing Mrs. Lockwood that adding boxes to the place settings at a town event was a great idea. "People love chocolate!" she'd chirped. "And it's great PR, shows you support our local schools! Totally what people want to know, in an election year."

And then things snowballed. If Caroline had anything to say about it Jeremy _would_ take the top seller crown. No matter what she had to do.

* * *

"I should have known," a familiar voice drawls, cutting into her conversation with Mrs. Reynolds.

Caroline offers the woman, her old cheer coach who handles the fundraiser, a bright smile, turning to face Klaus Mikaelson. She kept her tone sweet enough for their audience, but wished she could kill with the power of her mind. She'd almost talked her way into having the rules bent, and he'd interrupted all her careful work. "Fancy meeting you here. I'd have thought you'd rather burn the school to the ground then set foot in it again after graduation."

He takes no offense, actually agrees with her, "An accurate assessment, love. But I'm not here by choice." He hefts an envelope and nods at Mrs. Reynolds, "Rebekah and my mother have gone to Richmond for a few days. I was told to drop these off and pick up another few boxes of those chocolates so she might continue peddling them incessantly when she returns."

Mrs. Reynolds looks impressed, "She's done with the last batch already? That's incredible. A girl after your own heart, Caroline. I'll need to go grab the cases out of storage, so give me a few minutes."

She walks away briskly, leaving Klaus and Caroline alone. Which rarely ended well. Except for that one time they _never_ spoke of. What happened in Tyler Lockwood's hallway closet during a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven _stayed_ in Tyler Lockwood's closet.

Those were the rules. They could not be broken.

Even if Caroline had never thought the game's title more accurate then when she'd stumbled out of the closet, lips tingling and hot all over.

"Have you really nothing better to do then this?" Klaus asks curiously. "I heard you trying to wheedle more than the allotted cases out of the woman. Calling it an errand for Jeremy Gilbert. He's a friend of Kol's, you know. So I'm well aware that they're wiling their summer away with Call of Duty and weed. Kol's cravings are a big percentage of Rebekah's sales, actually. I can only logically conclude that Jeremy rising to the top of the best seller chart, which Rebekah is most displeased about, has nothing to do with any work _he _is putting in."

Caroline freezes, knowing she's busted. She'd totally forgotten about Klaus' insane number of siblings.

She deflates, leaning against the desk with a sigh, "Honestly? No, I really don't have anything better to do. I always thought Mystic Falls was boring but I had no idea how boring until I had something to compare it too. I miss New Orleans already even though it's only been three weeks." She winces at how pathetic she sounds, bracing herself to be mocked.

But Klaus doesn't comment on her startling lack of a life, his brows shooting up, "New Orleans? Really? Where do you go?"

"Loyola," Caroline answers. "Business program. Why?"

"Tulane. Art school," he tells her, with a grin. "Seems we're practically neighbors, sweetheart."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "We've _been_ practically neighbors since you moved here in the 3rd grade. Don't know why it's notable now."

Klaus smirks, drifting closer, so her bare legs just brush his knees. He leans in voice lowering, "It'll be easier for you to give in to your burning attraction to me without all the prying eyes and busybodies who clutter up this town, don't you think?"

"Excuse me, but _my_ burning attraction?" Caroline spits back indignantly. "I think you've got that the other way around, buddy. You're the one who was doing all the pigtail pulling. Always disagreeing with me in class, telling me my color schemes _clashed_, when they absolutely did _not_."

He doesn't look the least bit repentant, the ginormous _ass_. Klaus plants his hands on the desk, next to her hips, caging her in. "It did get your attention, didn't it? And you're lovely, when you're riled. I still think about the way you sank your teeth into my shoulder when I slipped my fingers into your knickers in that closet."

Her face heats, the memory rushing back. Because she totally thinks about it too, and how freaking pissed she'd been when they'd been interrupted before either of them could actually get off. Stupid, drunk, impatient teenagers.

Caroline clears her throat, tosses her hair back. "_Maybe_ you could have had more to think about, if you'd stopped being a _douche_ for five seconds and asked me out."

He pulls back, surprise coloring his features as he studies her face intently, "You'd never have agreed," he says, though there's a hint of unsureness there. "Miss Mystic Falls, Head Cheerleader, Prom Princess and me? Your friends would have thought it odd."

Caroline scoffs, "So? I was kind of over the high school hierarchy bitchery by the time we hit senior year, Klaus. There's a reason I only applied to schools out of state."

"You could have made a move too, love," Klaus points out reasonably. "It's the 21st century and you're not exactly shy. And you were clearly aware of my interest."

She could admit that he had a point. A teeny, tiny one. Maybe she'd wanted to be chased, insecure because she never seemed to be wanted like certain other girls. But being away from Mystic Falls had been good for her, in all sorts of ways. Caroline had come to realize that going after what she wanted had some serious perks.

And it didn't hurt that she was positive that rejection wasn't a possibility.

Caroline tilts her head, cups Klaus' jaw with one hand, and brushes her lips over his. It's brief, chaste, because Mrs. Reynolds could very well return at any moment. Klaus hands grip her waist, squeezing gently as she pulls away. His eyes are a little wide, and she thinks he's trying very hard not to smile. "Do you want to go out with me, Klaus?" Caroline asks.

He loses the battle, grinning at her and nodding immediately. "I do. How would you like to come to D.C. with me this weekend, love? I'm supposed to check on Elijah's apartment. He's working in London for a few months. It's not New Orleans, but it _is_ a city. I'm sure we can find something to entertain ourselves."

Getting out of Mystic Falls sounds pretty perfect to Caroline and her mind begins racing, thinking about how she's going to spin it for her mom. "I'd love to," she agrees.

They hear footsteps in the hall, and Klaus steps back, to a slightly more respectable distance. "Perfect. May I buy you lunch when we're done here? Firm up our plans?" he asks, just a touch hopefully.

It's completely endearing and Caroline kind of wishes she'd gone for a more serious kiss. Makes a mental note to go for it before the day was through.

**Feel It In My Bones**

**(Prompt: "I'm an agent and you're an evil mastermind and I was assigned to kill you but now you have me hostage and oh god you're hot." Klaroline AU pleaseeee. This morphed into Supervillianess!Caroline and SemiRetiredSuperhero!Klaus. I blame Klaus' dumb trucker hat on TO. Title from 'Radioactive' by Imagine Dragons. Smut.)**

Klaus wakes up slowly, tongue thick and head _pounding_. He's never been able to get drunk; his metabolism simply doesn't allow it. The feeling is foreign, and unpleasant, and more than a bit alarming.

His eyes flutter open and the first thing he sees? Bars.

Metal as thick as his wrist, spaced six inches apart. Ordinarily such a set-up would be no problem, would bend with little effort on his part. But they're faintly glowing, as if wrapped in purple lights, and he has a sinking feeling of the source. Reaching a hesitant finger out to touch, Klaus doesn't even come close to a bar before he recoils, drawing back with a hiss. That had _hurt_, like being stabbed with a thousand tiny white hot needles all at once.

The pain is helpful, shoving the last of the fuzziness from his mind, allowing him to _think_.

Both a blessing and a curse. It's quickly apparent that Klaus is in serious trouble. That he's been abducted, by someone who knows his weaknesses _and_ has the means to contain him. He's been lying low, gaining his bearings in a new city after all the trouble that had driven him out of the last. Has barely lifted a finger to help anyone, does not go out of his way looking for trouble to untangle.

He's slipped, once or twice, drawn by a scream or the shatter of glass. But that's only natural, an instinct. And he's getting better at fighting it.

Klaus had been completely unaware that someone had been watching him closely enough to be aware of those slips. It's sloppy, and he's ashamed. But he'll have to mentally berate himself later. Once he's out of his predicament.

He sits up, keeping a careful distance from the bars that surround him. The cage is well appointed, a thick rug and pillows strewn about, protecting him from the hard floor. There's a bottle of water that he eyes suspiciously, wishing he could guzzle it to get rid of the horrid taste in his mouth. He can see beyond the bars, to a large apartment. It's nicer then he would expect, a home not some grotty warehouse or underground lair. Klaus scans the room for any hint of his captor's identity. He has no shortage of enemies but the sparse, sleek furniture rings no bells. A wall of windows looking out at the Chicago skyline tells him that he's at least not been moved across state lines.

That was always _such_ a hassle.

The flat appears to be empty, but focusing his senses yields a clue. Running water, several rooms away, a woman's voice singing as she lathers her hair.

Klaus' eyes widen, in recognition and growing annoyance. He pushes a faint pang of betrayal aside. He's heard that voice before, listened to it bounce around a far smaller space, through much thinner walls, in a dingy motel room when she'd showered before leaving him with a kiss and a smile.

She'd claimed her name was Caroline, but maybe that was a lie.

* * *

Klaus spots the car before he spots the woman. It's red and flashy and awkwardly fishtailed on the country backroad he's on. Out of place, but Klaus isn't one to judge. He's been wandering aimlessly for weeks, living out of a suitcase and seeing the sights. Not the traditional ones, the sort that people came to the U.S. to see. He's been poking about odd little roadside attractions, local claims to fame, so solid plan or destination. He's seen Carhenge, in Alliance, Nebraska. The Hobo Museum, in Britt, Iowa. The last had only seemed appropriate, given his current vagabond existence.

Klaus thinks he's in Illinois at the moment, though he's long since stopped paying much attention to road signs, unless he's dangerously low on gas.

He's tempted to keep driving, disillusioned with helping people who often couldn't muster up a modicum of gratitude. Because honestly, he's _tried_ to avoid significant structural damage, in that last alien invasion, but weren't buildings and things, inanimate and repairable, secondary in importance to saving human lives?

Klaus thought so. The muckety mucks of San Francisco had disagreed. Which was why he'd left, once they'd started enhancing the blurry images people had caught of him on cell phones, asking for any information that might lead to his identity.

They couldn't keep him imprisoned, but they'd try. And Klaus would rather avoid that bit of tediousness.

He's mostly been avoiding people, had bought a terrible hat at a truck stop, wore sunglasses and stuck to small towns.

Stopping, _helping_, would be a step back into his old life, one he's not eager to make.

He's just about to step on it, blow past the convertible that's stranded, when he catches a glimpse of the owner. And the owner's mile long legs, revealed in a tiny pair of cut-off denim shorts as she leans against the driver's side door.

Klaus might not be strictly human, but he still had the usual human needs. And he'd been deprived of any company, for quite some time. The temptation of the luscious blonde peering over at him as he slowed his truck was far too great, his commitment to his new good deed free life wavering.

It was the right thing to do, Klaus rationalized. The road was nearly deserted, and who was to say the next person who drove passed would be on the up and up?

Pulling over, a bit ahead of her, he sweeps the hat off of his head and tosses it onto the passenger seat. No need to make an awful first impression. He slides out of his truck, and makes his way over. Slowly, trying to look friendly (not his forte) just in case she's rightfully wary of a strange man trying to play hero. "What seems to be the problem, Miss?" Klaus asks.

She doesn't seem alarmed by his presence. In fact, Klaus is fairly certain he detects a flicker of interest in the way her eyes linger on his chest. She straightens, uncrossing her arms. And it's a struggle to keep his eyes on her face, despite its genuine beauty. She's wearing a loose white tank, a deep v in the front and a hem that stops an inch or two above the waist of her shorts. It's a fair amount of tempting flesh, toned and slick from the hot summer sun, and he wants to memorize it. With his tongue.

The woman doesn't seem nervous, shoots him a wry grin, "Honestly? I have no idea. My mom insisted I know the basics – I can change a tire, and my oil, but it started making this weird grindy noise and my steering went all wonky. Smoke started coming from under the hood, so I pulled over. Was pretty impressed I didn't end up in the ditch."

Now that he's closer and looking for them, Klaus can make out tire tracks on the asphalt, evidence of her struggle. "You're lucky," he tells her. "I'm afraid I won't be much help, mechanically speaking. And I don't have a phone." It had been the first thing he'd ditched in the efforts of keeping his anonymity. He checked in with Bekah every few days via payphone, but he hadn't really been itching to replace the cell and make himself easily accessible to her and the rest of his family.

"Mine's dead," she grumbles, her lips pinching together. "So stupid, I know. But I left my charger at my hotel and didn't realize it. And then this happened."

"My truck can tow your car," Klaus offers. "I've the set up and everything. I'm sure we can find a mechanic in the next town."

She lights up, her gratitude plain, and steps closer, "Really? That would be _amazing_."

Klaus finds himself smiling back, "It's no trouble. Let me grab the chains."

She follows him, insisting on helping. Asks his name, offers hers. They make easy conversation and Klaus laughs often, her biting wit and bubbly charm highly enjoyable after weeks of solitude. He learns that she's from Virginia, an only child. That Caroline's just finished law school, and on a trip before she takes the bar exam.

"You know, thought I'd hang out with the little people before diving into blood sucking corporate America. Couldn't afford the _entire_ Eat Pray Love package but I'm making it work," she'd joked blithely.

Klaus had found himself offering up information of his own, more truths then he usually allowed strangers. Told her stories about his siblings, a heavily redacted version of the events that had led them to immigrating to America (his fault, mostly. Once he hit puberty and it became obvious that he was different things had gotten even more strained at home. His mother had confessed to an affair with a traveler who she'd never seen again and the man he'd grown up thinking was his father showed his true, greedy and grasping, colors).

By the time he and Caroline have found a town, Klaus is idly wondering if it would be out of bounds to ask her to dinner. He wants to spend more time with her, would deeply regret it if he did not get to.

It turns out he doesn't have to do the asking, because once Caroline's done speaking with the mechanic she walks back out to meet him with a hopeful smile, "He says it'll take at least until tomorrow. Can I buy you dinner? A thank you, for your kick ass Good Samaritan work?"

Thank yous have been few and far between, in Klaus' experience. Even with tasks far more difficult and dangerous than the simple favor he'd done for Caroline.

"It really was no trouble, love," Klaus begins, and her face falls in disappointment. So he hurries to add, "But I've enjoyed your company immensely, so I'd love to have dinner with you."

She beams, bounces slightly on her toes, "Great! Apparently there's a place that does great burgers down the road. It's not fancy, but I'm not really dressed for wine and candles, you know?"

"You're beautiful," Klaus tells her, before he offers her his arm, enjoying the slight flush to her cheeks at the compliment and the amused sound Caroline makes as she lays her hand on the crook of his elbow, "Lead the way, sweetheart."

* * *

Klaus is standing by the time he hears footsteps, the slap of wet feet on the hardwood loud and distinct. He crosses his arms, and tries to look menacing.

He fails, if Caroline's reaction is anything to go by. "Oh good!" she croons sweetly, when she walks into the room. "You're up! I had to guesstimate on the dose, wasn't sure how long you'd be out for."

That explained the state he'd woken up in. "You drugged me?" he asks sharply.

"Yep," she confirms, moving to the refrigerator, not a hint of remorse to her. "I knew you'd be fine, eventually. Are you hungry?"

He is, but he'll be damned if he'll be fed in a cage like an animal. "I'm fine," Klaus grits out.

"You sure?" Caroline asks, turning knowing eyes on him. She wanders closer, and Klaus hates that his eyes drink her in, her wet hair and bare face and the thin purple robe that's clinging to her shower damp skin. He's thought about her often, since they'd parted. Remembered her laugh and what her skin had looked like illuminated by moonlight. Thought about how she'd moved and _felt_ until he'd been aching and forced to see to himself.

But _this_ Caroline is an unknown quantity. She's not to be trusted, and Klaus has no idea what her goals are here. He shouldn't _want_ her, but his traitorous body disagrees.

"You had an awful big _appetite_ that time we had dinner. For food, and _other_ things," her voice drops suggestively, a naughty smirk on her lips.

It's gratifying that at least he's not alone in this odd attraction between the two of them. Her blue eyes are dark, as she watches him. Lids heavy and he can clearly see the outline of her nipples through the silk that barely covers them. Imagines that he could smell the lust on her, that intoxicating fragrance of her skin, if she came just a little closer.

But she keeps her distance, head cocked to the side. Klaus realizes that there's probably been a bit too revealing of a pause. "I'll live," he snaps.

Caroline shrugs, her robe slipping down her shoulder. Klaus narrows his eyes, sure that she's doing it on purpose. His hunch is confirmed, by the wicked gleam in her eye, the way she lets her fingers linger on her skin as she rights the fabric, covering her creamy skin from his eyes. If only it was so easy for him to forget. "If you're sure," she says innocently. "I'd hate to leave a guest wanting. It's the southern girl in me."

Klaus snorts, "Guest? Really, is that what we're going with, love? Do all your guests stay in cages?"

She smirks, "Maybe. Plenty of men are into that, you know."

"I'm not."

Caroline bites her lip coyly, her eyes dropping to linger on his mouth, "Oh, I _remember_."

* * *

Caroline slams him against the door to the room she'd rented with a surprising amount of force. But Klaus can take it, doesn't pause, too busy mapping the sensitive spots on her throat with lips and tongue and teeth. He grins, nibbles harder at the one he'd just found at the curve of her shoulder, and she curses, her hips jolting against his. "Door," she gasps. "We need to get the door."

Klaus hums, and she shivers, her head lolling to the side, "You're the one with the key," he points out, letting his hands slid under her top. It's been taunting him all day. Shifting with her movements revealing peeks of her back and stomach. He lets them travel higher, swallows back a moan when he confirms what he's suspected - that there's no bra underneath the flimsy top.

He traces the underside of her breasts with his thumbs, and she glares at him, her eyes fluttering like it takes a great effort to keep them open. Caroline licks her lips, "You need to stop touching me," she tells him, even though it sounds like it's the last thing that she wants. "There's a perfectly good bed in there. I want you in it."

That's not a statement Klaus has _any_ objections to. One last swipe of her straining nipple, just to hear her gasp, and he steps back, gives her room.

She glares half-heartedly, mumbling something about making him pay, but digs the key card out of her wallet. She's quick, pushing the door open and crossing the threshold. Klaus follows, makes to grab her and pull her back into him, maybe get his hand down the front of her shorts, but she dodges him gracefully.

An impressive feat.

One he doesn't bother to ponder, because she's discarding her top and he's riveted by her tight pink nipples. Klaus reaches for her again, but she stops him with a firm hand on his chest. She pushes, a sultry smile curling her lips. Klaus' pulse races at the sinful promise in it.

He finds himself hitting the bed, sits down heavily because she's still pushing. Caroline leans down, slanting her lips over his. Klaus buries his hands in her hair, and she moans when he tugs. Her tongue is a slow tease, tasting him leisurely, as her hands drift down his sides. Klaus lifts his arms obligingly, helps her strip away his shirt. Her fingers trail down his torso, the faint scratch of her nails has his jaw clenching and his cock straining. She palms him, squeezes him lightly through his jeans, her lips brushing his ear. "It really was my lucky day when you drove by."

She drops to her knees before he can reply, her hands frantic on his belt and fly. He lifts up, when her fingers hook around the waistband, and she takes his jeans and boxer briefs down in one fast motion.

She teases him, wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes, lets her lips flit over the head. Licks the hint of precum that's beaded there with a satisfied little purr. "Caroline," Klaus rasps out pleadingly.

Caroline grins in response, her fist beginning to pump him slowly, "You taste good, Klaus. I want more. So tell me what you want. Who knows? Maybe I'll give it to you."

He doesn't even have to think about it, "I want you to put me in your mouth."

She wraps her mouth around his cock, taking a few inches and letting out a questioning hum as she pulls back. Rubs the tip of him over her lips, blinking up at him questioningly, "Like that? Did you like that?"

Klaus has his hands clenched around the edge of the mattress, the muscles in his legs like stone as he gropes for control. "Yes," he hisses, and she rewards him by doing it again, the tiniest hint of her teeth leaving him panting. She watches him as she works him, hard suction and purposeful licks, her hands taking what she can't. It's almost too much, and he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath as he tries to hold himself back.

Caroline's lips leave his cock with a wet pop, "Uh-uh," she scolds. "None of that. I want you to watch, Klaus. Maybe I should give you something worth watching, hmm?"

His eyes fly open, curious and eager. She flicks open the button of her shorts, slides her hand inside with a relieved little moan. Writhes against her fingers for a moment, thighs widening as her eyes roll back in her head. Klaus tenses, seconds away from yanking her into his lap and ripping her off the clothes that cover her. But she seems to sense it, leaning down so he can feel her breath on his cock and uttering, "I'm not done yet."

This time there's nothing gentle or exploratory. Her mouth is purposeful, sucking and teasing until he's quivering. She's still touching herself, sighing and whimpering, the delicious little noises heightening his need as they grow in need and frequency.

He stiffens, rumbles out, "Caroline…" in warning. But she doesn't release him, swallows around him as he lets go with a hoarse groan.

Klaus feels wrecked, when she's done, barely able to hold himself upright. The slyly pleased expression on her face says that she knows, and that she'd proud of her accomplishment. As she should be.

He wraps his hand in her hair, and stands, helps her to her feet. The taste of himself on her tongue when he kisses her has his cock twitching, and Klaus hurriedly pushes her shorts off of her hips. She glances down with interest, to where he's well on his way to being fully hard again, her eyes glazed with want, "Mmm, we're going to have a lot of fun," she mumbles against his mouth with a smile.

Klaus silently agrees, determined to show her just how much, lifting her and lowering her to the bed. Her eyes are a little wide, when she settles, "Huh. You're stronger then you look."

Klaus grins, "You have no idea, love," he threads their fingers together, pressing her hands into the bed next to her head. Kisses her, until she's arching up against him, "Did you want something?" he taunts, notching his body between her thighs. He slips his cock along her slit, gritting his teeth at the pleasure of her wet heat against him. Does it again, more firmly, watching her mouth open and her head dig into the pillows.

"We're sitting at 0 to 1 orgasm wise. I think it's only fair that we even that up," she says, admirably managing only the slightest unsteadiness, despite the straining of her body underneath him.

Klaus nuzzles into her neck, kissing her throat, pretending to think about it, "Did you want my mouth then, in the interest of equality?"

She whines, wraps a leg around his hip, "Seriously? I want you inside of me. Right now."

"Definitely later," Klaus muses. "I'd like to taste you. After I've exhausted you with my cock, and you're drifting off to sleep. I'll put my tongue on your clit and play. Softly at first, more firmly as your thighs twitch while I hold them wide. Until you're awake and dripping for me. I'll let you come, over and over again. Until rest no longer seems necessary."

The noise she makes is feral, her arms straining against his hold, "Klaus, please," she begs. "I need…"

"Condom?" he asks, cutting her off. Because waiting is torture for him too.

She shakes her head, strands of hair sticking to her flushed skin, "I.U.D. Just fuck me."

He works inside of her in one swift thrust, his moan echoing hers. She clamps her thighs around him, holding him tightly, and her hips rolling restlessly. She feels so good, slick and tight around him. Klaus lets go of her hands, barely registers the sting of her nails in his back. He rests his weight on one arm, kisses her greedily, with a decided lack of finesse, "You're incredible," he breathes, when he can tear his mouth from hers, pulling back because he needs to move.

She lets out a little sound of protest when he withdraws, a deeply satisfied murmur when he pushes inside of her again. Clenches down, like she wants to keep him there, with her. Klaus curses as the sensation sends him reeling. It's intense, and it builds fast, but Caroline's right there with him, "Klaus, please. I'm so close. More," she demands, thrashing under him and chasing her release.

Klaus lets his hand slip between them, finds her clit, determined that she'll go over first. He's already got one over her, after all. A firm rub of his thumb and she cries out, shaking against him, muscles locking. Klaus follows quickly, unable to hold on with her fluttering walls squeezing his cock.

"Caroline. That was… fuck," he manages, not recognizing his own voice, pleasure spent and gravelly.

She lets out a soft, breathless laugh, her hands running along his back, "Agreed," she mutters, kissing his shoulder.

Klaus rolls, concerned about crushing her. To his surprise, instead of snuggling down drowsily Caroline sits up, throwing a leg over his hips, planting her hands on his chest. She rotates her hips against him, grinds against the muscles of his stomach. He can feel the slickness of against his skin and he'll be ready for another round in no time, his eyes riveted on the way her breasts are bouncing, He reaches out to touch them, "Not tired then?" he asks curiously.

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Someone's full of themselves."

"I've been complimented on my stamina, a time or two," Klaus tells her, striving for modesty.

She grins, leaning down, her hair curtaining his face, "I'll be sure to fill out a comment card."

* * *

"I'm curious," Klaus asks. "Just how much of it was a lie?"

He'd shut down for a bit, needing time to process, to plan. She'd quickly grown bored of getting monosyllabic answers to her questions, pouted that it was no fun if he didn't fight back. She'd puttered about her kitchen, fixed a plate of food (that smelled delicious and had left Klaus' stomach growling – something Caroline had at least been polite enough to ignore). She'd settled onto her couch, the plushest thing in the room, and turned on the T.V.

She hadn't bothered putting on more clothes, her robe splitting and showing off most of her creamy thighs. It remained just as distracting as it had been before.

She turns her head, considering him, "I'd wager less on my part then it was on yours. My name _is_ Caroline, I _did_ go to law school. I could have afforded to go to Europe, however. My job in college was a little more lucrative then most. And it's even better now that I've gone full time. No benefits, but I heal better than most."

Klaus glances pointedly around the spacious loft, "Yes, I'd gathered that you weren't exactly struggling."

She ignores his sarcasm, "And 'Hey, I was in a freak accident when I was nine that left me a little different,' isn't exactly first date conversation. As you well know."

There's a hint of accusation there and Klaus finds himself perking up at the new information, turning to face her more fully. "I was born this way, in point of fact."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Yeah, I know. Your mom got freaky with an alien. Your step dad was a seriously bad dude who thought experimenting on a child was cool. He ended up dead, you ended up in a new high school in a brand new country."

"How do you know that?" Klaus growls, hackles rising. No one knew that, save for his family and a few very select associates.

"A super villainess is only as good as her team. And my team is freaking amazing. Imagine my surprise that they managed to track down some ridiculously well buried footage of a certain San Fran do-gooder and he turned out to be the guy I'd banged on my summer vacation."

Klaus clenches his jaw, both to keep from protesting how casually she'd dismissed their time together, and from letting out the huff of amusement her words inspired. "You sound a bit miffed, love. Upset I'd settled in your city but didn't call you?"

They'd parted amicably, she'd given him her phone number, told Klaus to call her if he was ever in Chicago. Klaus still had it, looked at it every morning when he opened his refrigerator. Considered calling her constantly, but had been hesitant to drag her into his potentially messy life.

Uselessly, since she had buckets of complications of her own, by the looks of it. But there's no way he could have known that.

He'd been joking, but the dirty look Caroline shoots him tells him he might have touched a nerve. He stops holding the laugh in, and it comes out loud and booming. "Shut up," she hisses, crossing her arms and staring determinedly at the TV, her face blank and stony.

"No, sweetheart, I'm flattered. All this trouble, because you _like_ me? Makes a man positively tingly," he needles, even though it's a little true.

Her movements are jerky as she stands, and stalks over to him, "I said, _shut up_. And, for your information, I only needed you out of the way. I've got a big job tonight, no need to have you messing it up and jumping back on the 'saving the world one bank at a time' wagon. I cover all my bases. It's why I'm the best."

"I'm retired, in case you haven't noticed."

Caroline scoffs, "I've been tailing you for two weeks. You've stopped two muggings, a liquor store robbery and saved a baby from a fire."

Klaus bristles, "I get bored, alright? Used to a certain amount of excitement, even if the perks left something to be desired."

Her head tips, a calculating look in her eyes, "Hmm. Now _that's_ interesting."

"_What's_ interesting?"

But she doesn't elaborate. Caroline glances at the clock and he follows her gaze, "Late for your petty thieving, love?"

"Almost," she admits. Her hands drop to the belt of her robe, "Now, that cage is rigged to let you out when the job's done. And you're free to go. Feel free to wander back to your routine to trying to be super boring when you're not. Or…"

She trails off, sending him a smile that makes his pulse race. It's a promise, and a temptation. And Klaus hates that he can't resist the bait. "Or, what?"

Caroline tugs the belt, letting it fall to the floor, her robe slipping down after, leaving her bare and just as gorgeous as Klaus remembered. She stands before him shamelessly, her head held high, "_Or_ you could stay. You could wait here, or in my bed, and when I get back we can talk about other ways of dealing with your boredom. Fun ways. _Lucrative_ ways. And if you're not up to the job opportunity we could just have hot angry sex, and call it a night. I might even let you punish me for kidnapping you."

She turns, and leaves the room, and Klaus isn't strong not to enjoy the view, his eyes falling to her arse hungrily, and his palms itching to feel it once more.

He's made his decision before she'd cleared the room.

He knows he'll be staying, for the angry sex at the very least. Klaus wants to test the limits of the _differentness_ she'd mentioned. With context the flashes of unusual strength and speed he'd brushed off, her unflagging energy, are extra intriguing.

A woman who can keep up with him is a rare find. A woman who intrigues him more than sexually, as Caroline does, rarer still.

As for the rest of it, he has a sneaking suspicion that he'll be easily persuaded.

Being good had always been so much effort, for so little reward. And if Caroline was a perk of being a bad guy, how was Klaus supposed to resist?


	42. klarolineauweek2 AU: Timeshift

**Notes: **klarolineauweek Day Four! My most controversial day, thus far LOL. Thanks to those who've left reviews! A sequel to the Supervillianess/Superhero one is pretty likely. Hope you enjoy!

**By The Pricking Of My Thumbs**

**(Prompt: For day 21, could you write something about Caroline being Katherine's maid, Klaus felt intrigued by her after meeting her, but she suspects something and tries to avoid him. Title from Macbeth. Rated T.)**

Caroline attributed her initial uneasiness to shock – having stepped down from the carriage, assisted by a footman, her eyes had widened and her lips parted, upon glimpsing the familiar façade of Pavenham Park. She had occupied the servant's quarters for three years, serving the current Viscountess. Abruptly dismissed with most of the staff, due to the couples' finances being scandalously disarrayed, Caroline had been left scrambling for a new positon. A comfortable, permanent post had been hard to find ever since.

But Caroline had high hopes for her most recent gamble.

Miss Katerina Petrova is stunningly beautiful, and Caroline senses a wealth of determination to the girl, and more than average brains. Miss Petrova was determined to make a good match and Caroline was betting on her ability to make it happen. She had set about making herself invaluable, her attention to detail and skill with a needle being the things that had elevated her above her mother's housemaid status as a young girl. Katerina needed any edge she could get, her murky background a hindrance to many potential suitors, and Caroline's keen eye for fashion (and her vast knowledge of the workings of the nobility) provided one.

Caroline did not much like the young woman, truth be told. Found her a bit cold and calculating. Often snobbish. But that was fine as long as she was well paid and not mistreated. In the end Caroline rather suspected that those exact qualities would be what made Katerina's husband hunt a smashing success.

Caroline had been coaching her, helping her smooth out her accent, thankful for the lessons Tyler Lockwood, heir to the title of the household she had been born into, had once bestowed on her. Katerina's dresses were just on the edge of scandalous, per Caroline's design, her hair always arranged to show off the flawless beauty of her face. All the better to lure a man with deep pockets and little sense. Caroline was certain that such a man would serve Katerina's purposes perfectly.

It could be exhausting work and sleep was scarce. Caroline had scrambled for the last portion of their journey, trying to repair the damage the long carriage ride had done to Katerina's hair and ensemble.

They had high expectations for this particular invitation. Katerina was certain that, if she played her cards exactly right, she would be leaving with a betrothal secured. Caroline fervently hoped that the girl was correct.

Her frantic attention to Katerina had meant that she had paid no attention to the scenery, had not noted the familiar roads and countryside. Lord and Lady Saltzman, Pavenham Park's former occupants, had retreated to the small country estate of Lady Saltzman's niece Lady Elena Salvatore. The soft hearted girl easily convincing her doting husband to take pity on her only living relation. Pavenham itself was entailed, but rumor was that it, along with the rest of the Viscount's possessions (those that could not be sold to cover the debts resulting from his excesses with drink and gambling) were being rented out.

Caroline thought it is odd, to think of another family living in it. Different servants seeing to its upkeep. She glances at the people who have corrugated, and are watching Katerina's approach. Narrows her eyes suspiciously, because something seems _off_. The two men at the forefront are not speaking and something about the way they stand, so straight and still, nary a twitch or fidget out of either of them, sets off a low alarm in the back of Caroline's brain.

She had been warned of people like that. From her father, who cautioned her to beware of men who seemed impervious to things that should make a normal person uncomfortable. He had made her sit for hours as a child, teaching her to clear her mind and protect her thoughts. Caroline had always thought the exercises silly, his tales fanciful. But she had enjoyed spending time with him, whiling away her free moments with him in the stables amongst the horses.

Now, she wonders if she should have taken his words about unnatural creatures more seriously. The sun was hot, and the bugs were out, buzzing distractingly. But neither of the men seemed to notice, and in truth, the flies gave them a wide berth.

Caroline quickly schools her face into a pleasant mask, pushing her wild suspicions away, and falls into step a few paces behind Caroline. She keeps her eyes low, but does her best to observe. She had not yet encountered Katerina's suitor, a Niklaus Mikaelson. Or his brother, that Katerina spoke of in worryingly blushing tones. Caroline had tried to gently steer the conversations back to Niklaus, curious if there was anything Katerina could tell her that might be an advantage they could press. But she had only gotten the barest of information. Handsome, but in a different way than his brother. Quiet, but watchful. Interested in art, horses and chess.

Caroline had faith that Katerina would be wise, sensed that the girl had little choice, no family or wealth to fall back on, save for the kindness of her sponsor.

The men waiting to greet them are accompanied by an older woman and a handful of footmen. The footmen descend on the carriage, with a nod from the fairer man, and Caroline bites her tongue to keep in the directions she wants to bark. She had packed with great care, and several items in the smaller valises were delicate.

Caroline restrains herself, with great effort. It was not her place to order servants about in this household.

Yet.

One of the men steps forward, takes Katerina's hand and drops a kiss on the back of it, murmuring a compliment, and inquiring about the journey. Katerina flushes prettily, answers politely. The man has darker hair, and is impeccably dressed. Caroline could not wait to make the acquaintance of his valet and compliment his work. She knows that the better coiffed of the pair is Elijah, the brother, from Katerina's descriptions.

But it is the other man who catches Caroline's attention, and not only because he is attractive. He is, of course, with his windblown curls and full lips. His dress is not as fine as his brother's, less strictly adhering to the fashions – sleeves not quite as full, his doublet not as tightly cinched. He gives the appearance of a man who prefers utility to style, though his clothing is fine and he wears it well.

He is also looking at her, with something like interest in the deep blue of his eyes.

Caroline is used to being invisible, prefers it, to the odd man who thought that her station meant that they could take what they wanted from her. But this man seems to _see_ her, and though she detects some appreciation, it is not base or lecherous. It doesn't make her skin crawl, or have her itching to flee.

Nor does it make her feel at ease. It is as if he is assessing her, and has yet to decide if he finds her wanting.

Caroline stiffens her spine, lifting her chin just a touch, and waits for the greetings to be finished. She nods at the head housekeeper, once the woman is introduced, follows when told, to assist in preparing a bath for Katerina, to wash the dust of travel from her person before dinner.

She feels eyes on her back, as she mounts the stone steps to the manor's door, knows without a doubt to whom they belong to.

She only hopes that Niklaus Mikaelson remembers his manners if their paths cross again.

* * *

Ghosting through the familiar hallways once Katerina is abed, Caroline lets her mind wander. Her initial impression, that something was not right with the occupants of Pavenham Park, had yet to go away.

The servants were unnaturally quiet, and Caroline had not managed to unearth even the tiniest nugget of gossip from them. The Mikaelsons were either the best employers in creation, or the worst, and it was fear not loyalty that kept things so circumspect below stairs.

She has no candle, confident in her ability to navigate her way from the guest wing to the servant's sleeping quarters. She had made the same trip dozens upon dozens of times. Elena had been a frequent guest of Lady Saltzman's and her own ladies maid – a timid little mouse of a thing named April - got sick on long carriage rides. Elena was too kind and compassionate to replace her, so Caroline was made to do double duty when Lady Saltzman's niece visited.

She passes an open doorway, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Is startled, when a throat clears behind her. She jumps, whirling, her hand clutching at her heart. Niklaus Mikaelson merely looks amused, lounging in the doorway in his shirtsleeves, a glass of liquor in his hand. Caroline dips a hasty curtsey, "Beg pardon, My Lord. I did not see you there."

He waves her apology away, "No matter. I am surprised you could see much of anything in the dark. We have plenty of candles, love. No need to fumble your way about."

Caroline straightens, keeping her eyes down. He is barefoot and her eyes widen, drifting away from the shocking sight. "It is no trouble, My Lord. I am familiar with this residence."

"Really?" he drawls, sounding interested. "Do tell."

Caroline bows her head, her hands twisting in her apron as she attempts to make a graceful retreat, "I do not wish to bore you, My Lord. I am certain that you have far more important things to do then listen to my employment history."

"I do not, actually," he tells her. Caroline cringes, feeling her chances of escape slipping away. "And I have been meaning to speak with you. My family takes our privacy very seriously, and I do like to impress that upon that to the servants, even the ones that are with us temporarily."

That is something of an understatement, in Caroline's opinion. In addition to the lack of chatter amongst the servant's in residence she had not been able to glean much from other sources. The Mikaelsons had money to burn, according to the whispers. The title was new, and no one was entirely sure where it came from. They had been in the country for a scant few months, and tales of where they had been before differed greatly, depending on whom you spoke to.

"I assure you, My Lord, that I would not betray any confidences."

"Hmm, we shall see," he speaks softly, contemplatively, and drains the last of his drink. "Step into the library. So we might chat more comfortably."

Caroline takes a deep breath, and it is shaky, her nerves twisting her stomach into knots. But she has little choice, so she takes a hesitant step forward. Lord Mikaelson's hand lands on her back, and Caroline starts. He pushes, gently encouraging her towards a leather seat. "Sit, love," he says, and Caroline understands that it's an order. "Get comfortable. I shall pour you a drink."

She bites back a protest. Caroline has never had a drop of alcohol other than an occasional sip of mead or sherry. She knows the liquor in the cut crystal bottles is more potent, and that could be dangerous. She really ought to keep her wits about her. But she cannot risk offending him, so she takes the glass he presses into her hands, takes the smallest of sips. It burns and she struggles not to react.

Lord Mikaelson makes a low noise of amusement, "It does take some getting used to, I will admit." He steps in front of her, seats himself on the table that sits before her chair. Caroline blinks at him in surprise, and confusion. "Now, your name is Caroline, yes?" She nods, brows furrowing. "And how old are you, Caroline?"

"Twenty," she answers automatically.

"How do you enjoy being a ladies maid?"

It is not a question she has ever been asked, not something that she ever thought she would. Her answer comes out more bluntly then she means it to, "I like it more than I liked being a laundry maid."

He makes another of those soft noises, a precursor to a laugh, reaching out and grasping her free hand. He flips it, cradling it in one of his while his fingertips trace over her palm. Her fingers twitch, an instinctive reaction to the caress, gooseflesh racing up her arm. "It would be a pity," he murmurs. "To have all this pretty skin ruined by something as mundane as laundry."

Caroline blushes, squirms uncomfortably. Her hands are likely rougher than he is used to, the pads of her fingers toughened from repeated pricks of sewing needles. But he does not seem to mind, his fingers tracing upwards and stroking the fluttering pulse of her wrist.

This is highly improper, but she has no idea how to extricate herself.

He drops her hand, shifting back to study her face. "How did you make the transition?" he asks. "It is a rare feat, you must admit."

Caroline clears her throat, "I… learned to read and write when I was young. A friend taught me. I was pressed into helping Lady Lockwood with her correspondence, and then little duties were added. My sewing was praised, so I was elevated."

His eyes narrow, "And why did you leave the Lockwood's service?"

Caroline presses her lips together, considers how best to answer. The truth was that Tyler Lockwood's designs on her grew beyond friendship, as he had aged. And that his father's failing health meant that his mother was determined that he needed to take a wife, sooner than most. Lady Lockwood had not needed Caroline around, turning Tyler's head. A stellar character reference had landed her in an elderly ladies' household. And, upon that woman's death her granddaughter had found Caroline a position with Lady Saltzman. But she highly doubted Lord Mikaelson cared about the particulars.

So she lies, "I found myself curious, about the world outside the place I had grown up. Lady Lockwood was kind enough to find me a position, in another part of the country."

"And was your curiosity satisfied? Or do you long to see more, perhaps leave England all together?"

Caroline's eyes widen, wondering at how he had read her so accurately. Caroline dreams of the sea, of lands she has only read about in snatches of books secreted from the libraries of her kinder employers. Lord Mikaelson grins, almost boyish, and distinctly pleased, "Ah, just as I had thought. You do a good job at feigning meekness, love. But your eyes do not lie if one knows how to look."

She sits up straighter, having forgotten her posture as she had sipped her drink and watched him. His words alarm her, and she stutters for an apology, "I… I am sorry, My Lord. I do hope I have not offended you…"

His skin on hers, when he takes her hand startles her, her teeth snapping together audibly. "You have not," he tells her. Caroline goes still, when his hand cups her jaw. "Shh, love," he croons, "I just want to test one little thing." His grip tightens, tilting her head slightly down, his eyes boring into hers. They dilate, his pupils overtaking the blue of his irises and he speaks firmly, "Take off your dress for me."

He releases her and Caroline's jaw drops, her hand whipping out intent on slapping him soundly. He catches her wrist, in a swift movement, the set of his face calculating. "Now that is interesting," he murmurs. "Apologies for my forwardness, but I had to be sure."

Caroline is shaking, her anger overriding her reason, "How dare you?" she hisses. She shoves the chair back, moving away from him, "I am not…"

She finds herself against a wall, his hand cradling the back of her head, protecting it from the impact. She blinks in shock, because she had not seen him move, had barely felt _herself_ move, and they are several meters from where they had started. His voice draws her attention back to him, "Tell me, Caroline. What is your father's name?"

Caroline presses her lips together stubbornly, shifting her head so she is looking passed him. She feels his body shake this time, the low rich sound of his laughter reaching her ears. He pulls her cap from her head, followed by the pins that hold her hair in place. Caroline goes rigid, closing her eyes and refusing to think about the heat of his body pressed against hers. "You do not truly have to tell me, sweetheart. Because I'm fairly certain I already know. Lord Lockwood, unlike most of his peers, was not a man of leisure. Had some very interesting hobbies. Was often accompanied by his groom, a man named William Forbes. Together, in their prime, they were just about the best vampire hunters the world has ever seen."

Heaven help her but her father had been _right_.

There is only one conclusion Caroline can draw. "You are one of them, then? A vampire?" The question comes out heavily laced with resignation.

"One of the first," he confirms easily, his hands sifting through her hair oddly soothing and hypnotic.

"Are you going to kill me?" Caroline asks, proud that though her voice is small it does not waver. Her eyes are still closed so she does not see him move. But she lets out a gasp, feeling his lips on her throat, the rasp of his tongue tasting her skin.

His words brush against her skin, "Because of your father? No. He only killed those that made a spectacle of themselves. Saved me the trouble. And I find myself most interested in how he taught you to do what should be impossible."

Caroline swallows hard. Licks her dry lips. Lord Mikaelson's eyes follow the movement, a hunger in his gaze. But Caroline finds she needs more than that poor excuse for an answer, and decides she has little to lose from presuming more. "Then afterwards, once I am no longer of use. Do I die then?"

"I find that I do not particularly want you to," he tells her, sounding almost as surprised as she. His mouth lowers, nudging her severe collar aside. "I think you will make a glorious vampire. That watching you learn to _take_ what you want will be endlessly fascinating. But, I have a plan in place, love. One I have spent centuries working on. I will not have anything disrupting it, not even a fascinating little thing like you. So I suppose your fate is in your hands."

Caroline finds that she does not mind the idea. Welcomes it, because her life has so often been subject to the whims of others.

She forces her eyes open, staring at him warily, "I do not want to die," she tells him resolutely.

Lord Mikaelson looks satisfied, a faint smirk curling his mouth. His hands skim her curves, the ones her shapeless grey dress conceals, a touch of possessiveness in his grasp. And something in Caroline likes it, though she knows she should not.

"I thought not. Your sharp mind and iron spine won't allow you to give. I can use that. Tell me, sweetheart, just how attached are you to Katerina?"

"Not particularly, Lord Mikaelson," Caroline allows.

His smirk widens, eyes lighting up with mischief, Caroline's heart speeds up, shifting restlessly against him in response. His low, intimate tone does not help to dull the unfamiliar twinges low in her belly, "Excellent. I'm certain we can work things out in a manner that will benefit us both. And, love? I think you should call me Klaus."

**Closed Timelike Curve**

**(Prompt: time travel! Caroline is accidentally sent to the future by the latest big bad and requests help from future!klaus to get back to present time. Rated T).**

It became clear – quickly, alarmingly super _crystal_ clear – that they were seriously outgunned. The latest threat to Mystic Falls – some sort of freaky cult of white eyed weirdos who seemed to think that the town had something they needed to become immortal (but a good kind of immortal? Not the blood drinking kind. Caroline honestly wasn't clear on the details). Bonnie had been knocked out, a blast of a witch's power sending her hurtling across the room and into a wall. She'd landed in a crumpled heap, blood darkening her hair. Caroline had seen red, and bared her fangs. Let out a noise of fury. Torn from her throat it was a rough _animalistic_ sound. She'd charged, her rage making her reckless.

Stupid. So freaking stupid.

Another witch had come out from nowhere (and Caroline was going to shove something pointy through Damon's eyeball for his half ass recon) palm raised and chanting. Caroline's muscles locked, her chest constricting, and she'd been dragged across the room. She heard Enzo's hoarse shout, but she couldn't turn to face him. Magic lifted her aloft and a low buzzing sound filled her ears. It grew louder, and louder, the pitch increasing and she squeezed her eyes shut because it _hurt_.

The witches drew nearer, all three of them. The pressure around her ramped up and Caroline could barely breathe, felt like her bones were being ground to dust inside her skin. Her mouth opened and she felt herself scream, the hoarse tear of it making her wince.

But Caroline couldn't actually _hear_ it, couldn't hear _anything_. For a moment she could breathe, finally. But she didn't have time to be relieved, could barely manage to peel her eyes open. She tried to fight through the agony her body was suffering, wanted to check on her friends.

She doesn't get the chance. The pain is gone, but she still felt like she was floating, the room around her weirdly insubstantial seeming. Almost flickering, like she was watching it on an old TV with bad reception.

And then there was _nothing_.

* * *

But only for a moment.

Caroline's eyes fly open and once again she's deprived of air, her lungs burning. There's a hand around her throat, and someone's on top of her. Someone male, and naked, a lean body pinning her down. She panics, tries to thrash, to fight. But she's easily held down, so much weaker than whoever has her in their grasp. She struggles to focus, her wild eyes landing on a face. She half expects a smirk, icy blue eyes. But the pair that peer down at her are darker a darker shade, burning, with a depth of rage she's never been on the receiving end of, despite their rocky past.

Last she'd heard Klaus was in New Orleans, dealing with some serious Jerry Springer drama. Why is he here, looking like he wants to tear her head off?

She tries to form his name, her lips shaping the syllables weakly. She feels her eyes prickle, and begin to water. Klaus grits out a curse, sounding disgusted, but his iron grip loosens the smallest amount. "Who are you?" he demands.

The small stream of air she manages to suck in burns, and she swallows with great difficulty. Caroline wants to snap back something witty, a sharp stab of betrayal making her shaky, and ask if he's forgotten her so easily. But she can only barely manage to choke out, "C-C-Caroline." It hurts, that she has to, and she blinks furiously to keep the tears at bay.

The noise Klaus makes is feral, his face changes, and she freezes underneath him, watching his double fangs warily. He speaks in a low tone, dangerous and barely controlled, "Try again, sweetheart. Caroline died twenty-seven years ago. I personally dealt with the witches who ended her. I'd thought I'd seen the last of their coven, stamped out any straggler's pathetic ideas of vengeance. But it seems that's not the case." His thumb strokes her jaw, a mockery of a lover's caress, "If you're a good girl, and help me find whoever made you look like her, I'll kill you quickly."

Caroline goes still, mind going racing at his words. Her hands fly to clutch at him, needing an anchor, her nails digging in to his forearms. "What?" she croaks, "_Dead_? I'm not _dead_, Klaus."

He draws back, a flicker of something like doubt softening his eyes. But his hold remains punishing, "You're not Caroline either. There's no other side, no way to get her back. Yet, at least."

"Yeah, because I didn't die!" she exclaims, words spilling out frantically. "The witches did something to me, some freaky levitation chanting thing. I felt like I was being put through a meat grinder and then poof! Nothing." Caroline pauses, breathing deeply, now that Klaus' hand has loosened enough to allow her to do so properly. It hits her then, something he'd said, "Twenty-seven years?! Seriously?"

Klaus sighs, his gaze calculating. "It's entirely possible I'm going to regret this," he mutters. She feels his hand cupping her jaw, then a quick jerk.

Followed by nothing, once again.

* * *

Caroline awakens, for the second time, _incredibly_ pissed. In less pain, which you'd think would be a bonus. Until you realized that you were in a creepy dank _dungeon_.

She rolls into a sitting position, wincing as she cracks her neck. Glances across the room, to where Klaus is leaning against the wall watching her carefully. "Do you remember who I am this time?" she asks testily. "Or do we have to go through that whole song and dance again? At least you're wearing pants this time."

He barely reacts, beyond a small switch of his lips, "I think I'm allowed to dress how I see fit in the privacy of my own bed, love. You were the one who invaded it."

Caroline sends him a cold smile, pitches her voice sugar sweet and mocking, "Guess I'm just lucky you were alone. That would have been an awkward threesome."

Klaus expression remains unreadable, her dig brushed off. "It really is a remarkable approximation. It's a pity I'll have to kill the witch who engineered it, should it prove false. They've got real talent."

Caroline leans forward, her hands curling around the edge of the cot she's on. "It's not an approximation," she spits. "My name is Caroline Forbes. I was born in Mystic Falls, Virginia in October of 1992. I met you officially on my 18th birthday because you'd tried to have me killed. Really didn't improve my first impression of you, which was murderous _psycho_, which I made that time you turned my boyfriend into your hybrid slave."

But Klaus dismisses her words, "All things that wouldn't have been difficult to uncover, with a little careful digging."

Caroline throws her hands up, surging to her feet, "Oh my god. Do you want me to recite a conversation? Something just between us? Rome, Paris, Tokyo. Ring any bells? Magellan, who must have had some serious patience if he really was your friend. Because you're an infuriating asshat! Or, I know, how about I tell you about that scar on chest? The mole on your hip. I licked it when my hand was around your cock, remember? Or is that not proof enough? Have you been spreading that around? Because I know I kept the details to myself."

She's stalked forward, while she ranted, her hands reaching out to grip the bars. Klaus looks momentarily stricken, as close to bewildered as she's ever seen him, before his careful mask of boredom falls back into place. He remains unmoved, makes no motion to free her. "It's not possible," he says, though he sounds less sure.

Caroline lets her head rest on the bars with a groan, "Did you see a body? Do I have a tombstone somewhere? Do you send tacky flowers every once in a while?"

He shakes his head, "There was a fire. It drove your friends out of the house. Destroyed half the town. There was nothing of Caroline left to bury."

"Because I wasn't dead!" Caroline insists. It's the closest she's come to stomping her feet since she was a child, but she's so incredibly frustrated. She takes a deep breath, tries to sound reasonable, "Klaus, come on. The witches did something to me. Sent me here. I don't know why. But you can find someone to send me back, right? And I'll be out of your hair."

The suggestion does the opposite of what she'd intended, his expression going thunderous, "In all my centuries on earth, all the odd and impossible things I've seen and heard and done, I've never heard so much as a whisper that suggests time travel's a possibility. So logically, that would lead me to believe that it's not."

Caroline snorts, "Yeah, says the guy whose sperm miraculously started working after 'all his centuries.' Where is the little ankle biter these days?"

"Nonexistent," Klaus clips out. "As it always was. Which is precisely my point, sweetheart. That proved to be a lie. A rather elaborate one, but the goal behind it was common enough. It's most complimentary, don't you think? Such planning and care all for me. But it's always for naught. All these witches thinking they can best me, and yet one never has. Oh, they've won a skirmish or two, but that's it. Honestly, it's surprising they've not died out as a race, with their complete lack of common sense."

Caroline blinks, shocked at the information. "And that's what you think this is? Another attack?"

Klaus pushes off from the wall, shrugging, his nonchalance grating on her already frayed nerves, "Perhaps not a direct one. It may just be a distraction technique. We shall see. The Bennett witch is en route. She'll be here tomorrow, and we'll attempt to sort this mess out."

He leaves without another word, his footsteps ascending the stairs quickly. Caroline's teeth grind together, her hands shaking the bars forcefully. They don't budge, because of course Klaus' dungeon would be top of the line and sturdy. Caroline lets out a frustrated cry. "You'd better be planning on feeding me!" she shouts, knowing Klaus can hear her.

There's no answer, not that she'd expected one. Klaus seems determined to play this cold, distant and calculating. And maybe she gets that. If he'd taken pains to exterminate a pile of witches to avenge her that means that he'd been hit hard by her death. Mourned her. Her popping up was likely a lot to take in.

Still, didn't make her feel better about her current state. Caroline flops down on the cot, her hands clenched into tight fists as she quivers in anger and exasperation, tries to calm herself.

There were bright sides here. Little glimmers of hope. He'd sent for Bonnie, and surely Bonnie would _know_ her? Caroline tells herself that she only has to hold on for a little while.

Then she can punch Klaus' stupid face for not believing her. She'd never manage it normally but Caroline's pretty sure that snapping her neck and dumping her in a cell earned her a free shot.

Caroline huffs, trying to get comfortable. Quickly grows bored and considers shouting a request for a freaking book or something. But her stubbornness wins out, her pride refusing to allow her to ask for anything.

A distraction comes, in the form of a selection of blood bags is delivered by a dark haired vampire shortly, after Klaus had left. She takes the B+ and drinks it all in one go, the lingering soreness in her throat immediately eased.

So maybe she won't punch Klaus as _hard_ as she can.

But she's still totally punching him.

**An Afternoon's Discoveries (Part Two)**

**(A continuation to the historical in which Caroline is a widow who's trying to get pregnant in order to not be married off again. The original drabble can be found in the first half of Chapter 14. Smut. A lot of it.)**

She brought a book with her, upstairs to the room she and Klaus have claimed for their trysts. Caroline is unsure of exactly _when_ Klaus will be able to sneak away and she has nothing pressing to accomplish. He was set to be in meetings with his father's solicitors, had promised that he would do his best to hurry them along. They were merely coming to check that he had not burnt the property to the ground, Klaus had said. Joked, with a casualness that made Caroline _hate_ the Duke, despite the fact that she had never set eyes on the man, that his father would probably gladly sacrifice the estate, if he got rid of his least favored son in return.

She had kissed him, after that confession. In broad daylight, with only the cover of a thick tree. Soft and tender, trying to tell him with her touch how very _wrong_ his father was. Klaus had looked at her with such wonder after, her throat had felt tight, clogged with the emotions that he managed to inspire in her, that seemed to grow a little each day.

It scares her and it thrills her in equal measure. But she has no idea what to do with these feelings, given the situation she and Klaus have become entangled in.

Caroline sprawls across the bed, and settles in to read, tries to clear her mind. But she cannot focus, her ears perking up at the smallest creaks and groans. It is very new, this anticipation, and she has come to adore it. The tension that builds, the way she longs for Klaus' touch. How eagerly he satisfies her wants. It has only been just over a week, since Klaus began teaching her of pleasure and he has wrung more from her then Caroline had ever imagined possible.

And yet he promises that there is still much he can show her.

Words on the page blur together as Caroline presses her thighs together, a dull ache starting in her core. She is just about to give up, to let her mind wander to all the delicious things Klaus has done to her body when she hears the distinctive creak of the door opening.

She rolls over on to her back, uncaring that her skirts tangle and reveals her calves. They are somewhat beyond the proprieties at this point, though she sometimes cannot help but feel a little bashful. Caroline props herself up on her elbows to watch him enter the room. She has come to enjoy the way he moves, the way he holds himself. "Good afternoon," she greets him, just a touch formally.

Klaus smiles at her, strides to the bed, pulls her up and cups her face. His thumbs stroke her cheeks, "It is now. What is this blush for, I wonder?"

Caroline feels her color deepen, her eyes falling from his shyly. Klaus liked to hear her, had told her with quiet fervency, while the sweat cooled on their bodies, that there was nothing that she could say or do while they were intimate that was _wrong_ – that he wanted to know what she liked.

Caroline tries, directs his hands sometimes, lets pleas spill from her lips when something feels so good that she thinks she would go mad if he stopped. But her tiny attempts at encouragement were nothing compared to the words that Klaus said. He had little shame, would describe things before he did them, things that Caroline were certain were sinful but she could never find it in herself to regret them, once he showed her how gratifying they were.

Caroline bites her lip, and musters her courage. Glances up at him, "I was thinking of you. And of what we did yesterday."

His eyes heat and he bends to brush his lips over hers. She parts her lips to accept his tongue, lets out a sigh as it rubs sensuously against hers. His hands go to her hair, and she tilts her head back in pleasure as he pulls the pins out. She feels his lips curve against hers, as he takes his time and lets her hair loose. It's a simple thing, but she enjoys it. Leaves her hair in its arrangement even when it would be more expedient to take it down herself.

She expects him to pull her up, to turn her and work her out of her dress. It is how their encounters usually go. But instead Klaus drops to his knees and Caroline's eyes pop open curiously. "What… what are you doing?" she asks.

Klaus begins to gather her skirts, his eyes bright with anticipation, "What we did yesterday, that was new, yes? And you liked it. Quite a bit, if I recall."

Caroline swallows hard, but manages to nod. He'd stripped her bare, turned her onto her stomach. She had been disconcerted, and stiff initially, but Klaus had made soothing noises, murmured that she could trust him. Klaus had applied something liquid to her skin. Its coolness had made her gasp and then his hands began spreading it along her back. She had squirmed, feeling odd. "It is merely an oil, love," Klaus has assured her. "You will enjoy this, I promise." His hands had glided easily over her skin, warming the oil. It had smelled sweet, and he had kneaded the muscles and tendons along her spine until Caroline had been putty, and had felt like she could sink right through the mattress.

And then his hands had dropped lower, cupping her backside with the same reverent attention. She had buried her face in a pillow, mortified even though she had known it was silly. Klaus had given her thighs the same treatment, then her calves. Even her feet.

It had been heavenly, her entire body lax and pliant when he was through.

And then Klaus had dipped his hand between her thighs, while he applied his lips to her back. He had traced her delicate folds so softly, and Caroline had not been able to help spreading her legs further apart, wanting more of his touch. His slickened digits had slid easily into her body, working her up in gentle waves. Her hands had clutched the pillow under her head, hips undulating with his motions, that sweet release just beyond her reach. He had stopped and she had let out a noise, a whine of protest that had left Klaus groaning, "I know," he had soothed, before he had propped her hips up on a few pillows. And then he had lain overtop of her, his weight on his forearms so not to crush her. He had laced the fingers of one of his hands with hers, reached down and placed himself at the dripping entrance of her body.

Caroline had understood then, had let her head drop and shifted so he could slide inside. Klaus had done so with a moan, muffling the sound against her shoulder. "You feel incredible," he had rasped, as he had begun to move.

She had had a fleeting thought that she ought to feel suffocated, with the lean length of him pressing her to the bed. But she had not, not in the slightest, had liked the sensation. Klaus' trembling, the soft noises of pleasure he made rumbling through her where their skin pressed together. Widening her legs and circling her hips experimentally had left him gasping, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. "Yes," he had breathed, his motions speeding up, his length dragging against a spot inside of her that left her panting. "Like that. Move with me, take what you need, sweetheart."

Caroline had dug her knees into the bed, shifted with more purpose, the familiar tingle low in her belly driving out all thoughts but one. She had wanted more, needed him to push her over the edge. "Please," she'd sobbed out, between harsh pulls of air. Klaus had tunneled his hand under her, his fingers rolling her most sensitive bit of flesh until she had let go while crying out his name.

Every time he takes her to that place, leaves her boneless and sated, she is surprised at how good it is, marvels at the things her body is capable of.

"Caroline," Klaus drawls, sounding amused. He is in the process of rolling down her stockings, fingertips skimming along the back of her legs. She shakes herself, embarrassed for having gotten lost in the memory. She tries to remember what they had been speaking of, the exact question he had asked. Klaus repeats himself, his face deceptively angelic, "I asked if you liked what I did to you yesterday? When I touched every inch of you, got you wet and desperate before propping your delectable little body upon…"

Caroline nudges him sharply with her knee, cutting him off and making him laugh. She glares, but it is half-hearted, "It was… acceptable," she tells him primly.

Klaus shrugs, looking mildly disappointed, "Only acceptable? Well, that just won't do. I suppose they cannot all be winners. We do not have to try it again. Or any of the variations such a position offers. I had thought you might enjoy sitting upright, while I took you from behind. Your nipples are so very sensitive, and I do enjoy the way your breath catches as I play with them."

Caroline clears her throat, shifts slightly, and feels the wetness that coats her thighs. "I suppose we could try that," she offers. "Perhaps it was just new."

Klaus grins, but nods seriously, and Caroline is sorely tempted to nudge him again, harder this time, for being so unbearably smug. "Gracious of you, love. But I've wandered off topic. I would like to try another act, one I suspect will also be new to you. Will you let me?"

It is not in Caroline's nature to be compliant, even though she has yet to dislike any of the 'acts' Klaus has shown her. She finds she cannot stop herself from asking a question, "What do I have to do?"

Klaus tugs her forward slightly, so her bottom just rests on the edge of the bed. "Absolutely nothing," he promises. "You merely have to sit there."

She remains a bit suspicious, because that sounds far too easy, but Caroline nods. "I suppose you may proceed."

His hands race up her skirts, making quick work of the tapes that hold her drawers together, tugging the fabric away and pushing it aside. Klaus gathers her skirts at her waist, and Caroline instinctively clamps her thighs together to hide her center from his gaze. Klaus shakes his head, a small smile playing over his lips, "Hold these for me will you, love?"

Caroline does as he has asked, pinning her skirts to her body. She jumps slightly upon feeling his breath on her thighs. Klaus' hands land on her knees, pushing them apart with gentle insistence, shuffling forward when she reluctantly parts them. His hands move higher, thumbs tracing the crease where her thigh meets her torso. One of them brushes over the seam of her, parting her folds. Caroline lets out a shocked squeal when his head dips, guessing his intention. "Klaus! You can't… oh!"

Her protest dies, because he _is_. And heaven help her but his tongue is so much better than his fingers. Soft and slick and teasing. Caroline's thighs widen unconsciously, a hand resting behind her on the bed to help her stay balanced, as she tries to get _more_. He licks broadly, and just as she's become accustomed to that sensation he lets the wicked point of his tongue flick over her clit. Caroline grips her skirts so tightly her knuckles protest the strain. And then he dips lower, circles her entrance, letting out a pleased hum that sends sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine. "Klaus…" Caroline chokes out again, unable to help writhing in place. "I do not think that I…"

"Yes you can. Do not _think_, Caroline. Just enjoy," he murmurs, right before his lips seal over her clit. He sucks hard and Caroline cries out, reaching for him and grabbing at his hair. Two of his fingers enter her, just what she needs, and Klaus strokes her to climax, worrying her clit with his lips.

Caroline falls back to the bed when it hits her, holding Klaus between her thighs as her body trembles and her mind goes blank. He doesn't seem to mind her grip, moaning as he licks her frantically. He slows, as the shaking of her legs eases, presses kisses down her inner thigh before he stands. He tugs her skirts from her hand, rubs his thumb over her knuckles before he kisses her wrist. Her fingers twitch, reaching out to stroke the slight stubble on his jaw. "How was that?" he asks, smirk in place.

Caroline rolls her eyes, because he very well knows how it had been. Her abandon had been certain and complete. "I did not know that you could do that," is what she says, her voice slightly gravelly from the volume of her cries.

Klaus smiles down at her fondly. "I had assumed as much." He crawls over her, brushes his lips over hers. They remain wet with her arousal, and Caroline finds herself curious, her tongue peeking out to taste before she can think to stop herself. Klaus freezes, a curse rumbling out. Caroline draws back, as much as she is able, "I'm sorry," she stutters, thinking he was displeased. He lets out a noise, kissing her more deeply, grinding his hips into hers. He is hard with want, and Caroline slips her hand under his jacket and shirt to feel his skin.

He is breathless when he pulls back. "Never apologize, love. You taste incredible. I could do that for hours." Klaus pauses, his eyes going dark and determined, "And I will, one of these days. You would need to be out of your dress, I think. So I could see your skin flush. You would be so pretty, love. Pink and aching for me as you thrashed in the sheets."

Caroline shivers at the low words, finds she has no objections. A thought occurs to her, "Could I do that?" she wonders. "To you? Do men like it too?"

The groan Klaus lets out sounds pained, "They do. And you could. But love…"

Caroline's already moving, her curiosity getting the better of her. She pushes Klaus off her, and he rolls to his side. And then on to his back. She props herself up on her elbow, tracing her hand down his clothed front to stroke over the bulge in his breeches. "Will you tell me how?"

Klaus swallows hard, his Adams apple bobbing. His breaths have begun to shallow, his body twitching under her touch. She finds that she likes it, that it makes her feel powerful to see him on his way to being overcome. His protest is weak, "You do not have to, Caroline. I do not _need_ it."

Caroline shakes her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders, "I want to," she tells him firmly, setting her fingers to his waistband. "I want to make you feel good."

Klaus sits up abruptly and Caroline sends him a severe glare, thinking he intends to thwart her. He laughs softly, kisses her quickly, an affectionate brush. "So stern. I am not nearly so strong to resist such an offer. But I want you out of your dress. May I?"

Caroline nods her permission, slips off the bed and presents her back. Klaus works quickly, has her disrobed in no time. He pulls her back against his chest, cups her breasts and tweaks her nipples. She sets her hands on his legs, cuddles into his chest. Feels his erection against her bottom. "You are trying to distract me," Caroline accuses. "It will not work."

"I am not. Not really. I just like to touch you." Caroline likes it to, so she tips her head back on his shoulder, biting her lip as his touch tightens her nipples into aching points. He grabs one of her hands, and sets it over her breast, places his over top and encourages her to touch herself. She tilts her head, so she can see his face, see the rapt way he watches her hands on her own flesh. "Do you like that?" she asks curiously.

"Watching you touch yourself?" Klaus asks. Caroline nods, nuzzling into his throat. "I adore it," he rasps.

"I do it in the bath sometimes," Caroline confesses quietly. "But my hands never feel as good as yours."

Klaus lets out a shaky exhale that ruffles her hair, "Fuck, Caroline, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

She rolls her hips, and he moans. "I think I have _some_ idea," she tells him as she turns. Her hands reach up, push his coat from his shoulders, caressing his arms as she goes. She reaches for the buttons of his shirt next, kissing his chest as his skin is revealed to her. Tests his reactions, with little nips and swipes of her tongue.

Finds herself wishing, not for the first time, that she would have been lucky enough to marry someone like Klaus. That she could have learned that all of this was possible between a man and a woman – warmth and euphoria and _fun_ – far sooner then she had.

Her fingers fumble clumsily with his pants, the fastenings unfamiliar. Klaus reaches down to help her, shucking them and moving back on the bed. He rests against the headboard, "Come here," he tells her. He takes her hand, tugs her so she is facing him, kneeling between his legs. Caroline shuffles back slightly, reaches out hesitantly. She has touched him before, learned where he is most sensitive with her hands, and has enjoyed watching his face twist and his body heave under her ministrations. "What do I need to do?" she asks, wrapping her fingers and around him. Klaus lets out a strangled laugh, his head tipping back, the cords of his neck sharply outlined as she strokes him. "Honestly, love, whatever you do is going to feel incredible. Mind your teeth, and do not try to take too much. Anywhere I like your touch I'll love your lips or your tongue."

Caroline's nose wrinkles, her lips pressing together in mild annoyance. Because as far as instructions went, those were not particularly helpful. She swipes her thumb over the leaking tip of him, pulls it to her face to contemplate the smear of wetness left behind. Meets his gaze, when she puts it in her mouth. Klaus' eyes widen, a soft grunt falling from him. The taste is not as unpleasant as she had assumed it would be, and Caroline ducks her head and licks over the tip of his length, to see if that remains true. Klaus seems to enjoy it, her name coming out raggedly. She encloses him in her lips, sucks gently and then harder when he moans, long and loud.

She pulls back, slipping her hair over one shoulder so it stays out of the way. Klaus has reached up, his hands clamped over the headboard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He watches her raptly, his face taut with hunger.

Caroline assumes that means she is not hopelessly inept at this particular activity.

One of her hands reaches lower to stroke over his balls and his hips shift, the muscles of his stomach pulled tight. Caroline licks her lips, and bends once again, sliding more of him into her mouth. She laves the underside before she hollows her cheeks around him. Klaus moves again, gritting out an apology, and Caroline grips him tighter, pulling off slightly.

Well, now she realizes what he had meant by 'do not try to take too much.'

Caroline continues, watches his face for cues, and listens carefully for his noises of enjoyment. Repeats the motions that cause them. Tries them with more speed and force. After a time Klaus goes still, seems to stop breathing and rasps out, "Caroline," with a satisfying note of pleading.

She looks up in question. Klaus reaches out, "Come up here. I should be inside you when I come."

Caroline crawls forward, chagrined. She had almost forgotten their purpose here, the bargain they had struck to get her with child. Klaus' hand slips between her thighs, stroking along her folds, and he groans, "God, you are _dripping_."

He sounds thrilled, so Caroline does not allow herself to feel self-conscious, lifting up and taking him inside of her. Klaus' head drops to her shoulder, his hands coming up to palm her breasts once she's fully seated. "This is going to be quick," he warns her, a note of apology coloring his tone. Caroline finds that she does not mind, the fullness of him inside leaves her muscles clenching rhythmically. His mouth takes over on her breast as his hands grip her hips, helping her rock on top of him. They have done this, several times, and Caroline has to admit it might be her favorite. She leans back, chasing that perfect angle. Shudders when she finds it, wrapping a hand around his neck for balance.

Klaus seems to be straining, body pulled tight, making greedy noises between rough pulls of her nipple. One of his hands burrows between them and he works his magic against her clit, sending her reeling right before he loses it, spilling inside of her.

He pulls her forward, so she sprawls against his chest, murmuring softly. Caroline is drowsy, her eyes drooping. She only catches a few words until he says something that floors her. She pulls back, wide eyed and shocked, "What did you say?"

Klaus clears his throat, looks as nervous as she has ever seen him. His hands come up to her face, noticeably trembling, "I said that I love you, Caroline."

Tears spring to her eyes, and Caroline grips his shoulders. Let's out a watery laugh. Her heart is beating wildly, and she is afraid he can hear the pounding, "That is _completely_ crazy, Klaus. We have known each other for three weeks. I am in mourning. My husband has not yet been dead a _month_."

He shakes his head, presses his forehead to hers. "I do not care. I love you. I want you to marry me. We can go to Gretna Green. Tonight if you wish. Or we can sail to your home, speak to your parents and do it there. I will convince them that I will make you happy. I care not an ounce about any scandal. I just want to be with you."

"What about your family?"

"I cannot find the will to care what my parent's will say. We have never been close. My little sister has already been married off, so no scandal can harm her chances. My older brothers will scold me, but I know they will come 'round. Kol will likely congratulate me, find the situation endlessly amusing."

She finds that his offer is more than enough for her.

Caroline kisses him, laughs into his mouth, clutches him frantically to her, only releases his mouth when she can no longer go without breathing, "Yes. Tonight. I will write my parents immediately. My mother will be furious, but my father will understand."

Klaus lights up, his delight plain, before he rolls Caroline underneath him. He sets his hands on either side of her head, smirking down at her heatedly. "We have plenty of time before it grows dark, love. I say a celebration is in order."

Caroline has already begun planning, what supplies they will need, which carriage to take. But his mouth on her throat is distracting, more so as he moves downward, and she finds her mental lists difficult to focus on.

She gives in with a sigh, when he bites down near her collarbone, soothing the sting with his tongue.

Another hour or so will not matter, not when the rest of her life is about to begin.


	43. klarolineauweek2 AU: CrossoversFusions

**Notes: **I only managed one drabble from klarolineauweek Day Five. The theme was AU: Crossovers and Fusions so I wrote a little sequel to one that has been nagging at me.

**Take My Body Home (Part Two)**

**(A continuation of the Dead Like Me inspired drabble found in the first section of Chapter 11)**

It takes several years, but the Mikaelsons, and their inability to die correctly, quickly become the bane of Caroline's existence.

And it only worsens, once others become like them. She wonders how she will ever meet her allotment of souls, at the stuttering pace she manages, so busy the siblings keep her.

She was taken aback when Kol Mikaelson's name appeared once more, as the next soul she was to reap. She had assumed it would take that time, that whatever affliction that the Mikaelsons had, the magic that kept their souls from leaving their dead bodies, had finally been corrected.

She had turned out to be very, very wrong.

Caroline had set out to find them, wearing a face vastly different from her own. She had found Kol in the middle of a town, picking critically at a merchant's wares, his eyes on the man's pretty daughter. Caroline had lifted her hood to hide her face, and moved in his direction. She had intended to slip by him, hoping that the faint brush she needed to make against his skin would not be noted in the thickness of the crowd.

But he had whirled, when her finger had only barely reached out to the bare bit of skin revealed on the back of his hand. He had snatched her arm up, his grip crushing. Peered down at her with cold eyes. Caroline took the opportunity given, stumbled forward. She caught herself on his chest, managed to mark the skin of his throat. It had glowed faintly and he had twitched, eyes widening in surprise.

Alarming, since he should not have been able to feel the mark.

Caroline had refused to allow herself to panic, and turned wide eyes up at him, her fear not entirely feigned. He could not kill her, but _he_ did not know that. And Caroline was loath to be subject to his undoubtedly creative attempts. She had forced a stutter, "M-m-m-y apologies, s-s-ir. I trip-p-ped."

His eyes had narrowed, his disbelief plain, but the pressure of his hands eased. The merchant's daughter was watching them with interest, and Kol seemed aware of it. He had released Caroline and offered a facsimile of a charming smile, "That is quite all right."

Caroline nodded, and stepped back, intent on making her escape. She would be required to stay close, watch him to see how he died. She had been barely a step away when Kol's jovial inquiry stopped her cold, "Ever been to the New World, darling?" he had asked her. "There is something familiar about you."

Caroline's mouth had fallen open, her shock plain. A mistake. Kol's head tipped to the side, something predatory to the set of his shoulders as he awaited her answer. There was no possible way he could recognize her, Caroline had known. She had worn her true face, on that fateful trip to The Mikaelson's village. Thought it would not matter so far from home, thirty years after her 'death.' The chances that someone would have recognized her were nil.

In hindsight, she had been so very foolish.

She had cleared her throat, "Never, sir. I have never even left this town." A lie, and badly delivered, at that. Caroline had nodded hastily, her eyes flitting over to the father and daughter who had been watching closely. She had made the barest effort at politeness, hoping that they had not found her too remarkable. "Good day, sirs. Miss," she had murmured, before fleeing

Caroline had dodged the crowds, resisted the urge to look back. The last thing she had needed was to draw _more_ of Kol's attention. She had looked upward to the cloudy skies and made a fervent wish.

_Please let this death be a permanent one._

Her hopes were quickly dashed, because Kol's second death was every bit as impermanent as his first. As was the third, and the fourth. Eventually, Caroline ceased to count. Whatever magic that kept Kol tethered to this world he did not seem grateful for it. In fact, he seemed determined to test its limits. He jumped off high peaks, swam in swift currents. Played with fire, and wild animals.

His name popped up, again and again. For a time Caroline barely managed to successfully reap any souls, and send them on their way, too caught up in chasing The Mikaelsons across Europe. She was occasionally called to attempt to take the other sibling's souls. Finn the most, Rebekah's rarely and Elijah's only once or twice.

But never Klaus'.

She does not understand why but the single conversation she had engaged in with Klaus Mikaelson lingers in her thoughts. Caroline secretly finds it disappointing that she has never had the opportunity to attempt another.

Which is entirely silly, because it is not as if he would _know_ who she was.

Or would he?

Kol did. And he had somehow become the closest thing Caroline has to a friend.

He had goaded her in the beginning, insisting that he knew her, could pick her scent out of a crowd, each time she was made to approach and attempt to mark him. No matter her face, or build, or hair color. She ever tried to appear to him as a man. Kol had wrinkled his nose in distaste, "Darling, is that supposed to fool me? And here I thought we at _least_ respected one another."

She'd reached out and grabbed his arm, left her mark and stomped away in a huff, his booming laughter following her.

But he grew on her. Caroline was never entirely sure why, whether it was _him_, or just her own loneliness.

Over the years Kol had managed to badger her into giving him her name, and a vague description of what she did, why she always turned up when he died. Kol had accepted it, with little difficulty. But then, Caroline supposed that was only natural, given the circumstances. Who better than a boy who could not die to believe a story about a girl who collected the souls of those who did?

Caroline had given up, at some point, after she had told Kol what she was, on protecting her identity. Wore the face she'd died with, the blonde curls and freckles that her mother had despaired of. Kol greeted her appearance with varying reactions. Sometimes he was delighted, and Caroline had come to realize that it was because he was set on doing something stupid and risky. Sometimes it was with a scoff, and exasperation. Those were the times when death was not his choosing, when it was doled out as a punishment or in a fit of rage.

She had caught up to him in a tavern, earlier in the day. Consented to a drink, even if this particular establishment seemed to water their mead most heavily. Deflected his questions, as she usually did, only willing to answer the ones regarding her travels, what she had seen on the road. Kol finishes first, letting his mug rattle against the table. He had held out his hand, and Caroline had swiped her fingertip across it obligingly. It was their routine. "Lovely catching up, darling. I suppose I'll see you soon? Nik has been exceptionally moody lately, so I wager this particular neck snapping could very well be the first of many."

He sounded mostly resigned, but Caroline had been trailing Kol, had spent enough time with him, to detect the underlying resentment. She had felt a pang of pity, watching him go.

Until the tavern's owner informed her that the tab, and all the drinks Kol had consumed before she had arrived, still needed to be paid for.

* * *

Klaus hears the telltale sound of bones shifting, the creaking that indicates Kol's spine is on the mend. Just in time, because the carriage needed to be loaded, and Rebekah was ever so pouty when made to do manual labor.

Kol is sprawled on a table, out of the way. They had moved him from the floor, where he had crumpled after Klaus had snapped his neck earlier in the day. No need for he and Elijah and Bekah and their compelled servants to be stepping over Kol all day, in their haste to pack up the household. Not with Mikael spotted so near.

Kol groans, sitting up, rubbing the back of his neck. Klaus does not bother to wait for Kol to orient himself. His brother should be accustomed to waking up after a temporary death, at this point. He _has_ done it more than the rest of them combined. "Elijah packed your things," Klaus informs him shortly. "Now, be a good boy and pitch in, would you? We need to be going, and quickly."

Kol seems to be in no hurry, and Klaus grinds his teeth together in irritation. "Now, Kol," he snaps. "Do not make me shove you in a trunk."

He heaves a long suffering sigh, "You know, Nik, just once I would like to wake up to my lovely blonde friend, instead of _you_ barking orders. It would be far more pleasant a view, even if I suspect she would kill me herself if I asked her to soothe my aches and pains with her pretty mouth."

Klaus stills, turns to face his brother quizzically, "Blonde friend? Kol, we have only been in this town for a month. You have kept company with a number of blondes, yes. But as far as I recall they are mostly dead. Did this last death leave you a bit confused? Perhaps you should eat a maid."

"Not a bad idea. But no, I am perfectly lucid. I am surprised you do not remember her, that you have never noticed her following us around. It has been decades, and you stew in your paranoia often enough."

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"Caroline. She's a pretty little soul stealer," Kol tells him blithely, and Klaus goes still as recognition sweeps through him. "Calls herself a Grim Reaper. A bit dramatic, to my mind, but I suppose she did not make it up. I feel a bit bad for the poor thing. She spends an awful lot of time trying to take my soul and never has any luck."

It seems like nonsense, but Kol seems entirely serious. And how would Kol know of such a woman, with such a task, one who seems so similar to the girl in green from Klaus' memories?

"And how does that work?" Klaus asks, returning his attention to the books he has been packing. Trying to mask his interest. He has thought about the pretty blonde Kol seems to be speaking of more than once, over the decades. Her placidity, the calm inquisitiveness she had displayed. How she had not flinched from what he had been made. "Grim Reaping, I mean. Because I do remember a similar girl. She was the first thing I saw when I woke up after Mikael stabbed me."

Kol shrugs, straightening his clothes, "Simple. She finds me, touches me. Chastely, unfortunately. And then I die. I wake up and eventually she finds me again. We converse, bond over our mutual hatred of dusty roads and subpar inns. That sort of thing."

Klaus processes that, tucks it away to think of once they have put some distance between their father and them. He has never died, not after that first time, despite the fact that Kol's experimentations have proven that any death is temporary for them.

But perhaps, once they are safe again, he might attempt it. _Caroline_ had disappeared, flitted out while he had been distracted. Klaus' questions for her, and he had many, left unanswered.

He would very much like to finish their conversation, demand a proper introduction. And, if Kol is not lying or jesting, it seems as if she will come straight for him, saving Klaus the trouble of tracking her down now that he knows she still exists in the world.


	44. klarolineauweek2 AU: Mythical Creatures

**Notes: **My last klarolineauweek drabbles for Day Six. It was AU: Mystical Creatures. Enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**Fantastic Beasts**

**(Prompt: ****Mystic Fails gang engages with the wrong witch and Caroline gets caught in the cross fire (again!). When she grows a tail and scales, it's Klaus who's set on helping her. Rated K+)**

The moment she woke up Caroline knew something was wrong. She was _freezing_ and her throat had that middle of an awful cold scratchiness. Her entire body _itched_. All things that should not have been possible, for a vampire. The lack of sickness, human aches and pains, was a definite perk. Moaning and rolling over, wincing as her sheets scraped against her skin in a way that bordered on pain, Caroline groped for her duvet, wrapping it around herself and curling into a miserable ball.

She shivers for long minutes, confused and uncomfortable, before she pokes her head out of the blanket burrito she'd made, squinting because the sunlight seems unusually bright and stings her eyes.

She's kind of fuzzy on how she'd gotten home last night, remembers Enzo half carrying her and Bonnie fussing around tucking her into bed. They'd come out to visit her, were occupying the pull out couch in her modest apartment in Santander. Caroline kind of remembers trekking out to a vineyard yesterday, taking a wrong turn somewhere and running out of gas.

No problem for her and Enzo, and they'd used the cover of darkness to flash towards the nearest town, Bonnie on his back (with much grumbling and complaining and Twilight allusions that went entirely over Enzo's head).

But that's when things get hazy.

Caroline groans, shifts painfully towards the edge of the bed. She loses her balance, trying to swing her legs over the side. Falls to the floor with a heavy thump and a sharp yelp. She lays there, trying to muster the will to move again, when Bonnie bursts through the door. Caroline turns enough to look at her, clears her throat and manages a weak, "Hey."

Bonnie looks frantic, dropping to her knees and putting her hands on Caroline's face, "You're clammy too. Enzo says he feels off, and the light hurts his eyes. And honestly, Care, you look like crap."

Caroline manages a weak laugh, grimacing because it hurts, "I feel like crap. Super alarming, by the way and I'd be freaking out if I had the energy. What happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

Caroline shakes her head, managing only a tiny movement, her face twisting in pain. Bonnie's hand reaches out tentatively, smoothing her hair as she explains, "There was a camp, and we plowed right through it. Witches. Had to be. But not using a type of magic I'm familiar with. They put you and Enzo down. I fought back, got them to release the aneurysm spell for a minute. You and Enzo managed to kill a few of them but they were really strong. We ran the rest of the way back, but you were a little out of it. You both fed and I thought that would be the end of it."

Closing her eyes Caroline tries to think, remembers diving in with her fangs bared, tearing at flesh that wouldn't give the way a human's would. The muscles and bones denser somehow, her blows doing little damage.

"Help me up," she croaks, and Bonnie does so gingerly. Together, in tiny steps with frequent rests they make their way into Caroline's living room, and Bonnie settles her next to Enzo on the couch, piling both of them with the covers from Caroline's bed. He's dozing, though it seems restless, and Caroline's envious. "Blood," Caroline requests. Bonnie darts to the kitchen and pulls a few bags from Caroline's refrigerator.

She feels a little better, once she's sucked two back. Her head clearer and the pain in her throat eased. "I've lived here two years, with no supernatural scraps. You're here three days and you've pissed off some creepy coven," Caroline jokes haltingly, her shivers growing more violent.

Bonnie doesn't crack a smile, her hands twisting anxiously in her lap. "I don't know what to do, Care."

Caroline closes her eyes, tries to think. "I'm pretty sure there's a witch that runs a bakery not far from here. I was shooed out and told I wasn't welcome and she had a distinctly witchy vibe. Maybe you could check it out? Play the 'Yes, I am a Bennett witch, kiss my ring' card and ask if there are any local covens you should be wary of? It'll give us a place to start."

Bonnie looks thoughtful, "Yeah, that could work. A hint about what branch of magic that was would be very helpful."

"Good to know I'm still a genius with a plan," Caroline tells her, before she leans forward, her body wracked with hoarse coughs. "Ugh, that tasted like a dirty ashtray."

Bonnie collects the blood bags, keeping her grimace mostly hidden, as she holds them with the tips of her fingers. "I'll grab you guys a couple of bottles of water." She's quick, setting them on the counter, and then collecting her bag. "I'll be as fast as I can," she promises.

Caroline manages a wan smile, shifting to try to get comfortable on the couch. It's a nice one, and she's spent many an afternoon slumped on it, reading or Netflix binging. But she just can't seem to find a position that works and it pokes at her awkwardly no matter how hard she tries. Bonnie watches, her face drawn and worried, before she shakes herself and leaves. Caroline gives up on her quest to get comfy, closing her eyes with a sigh.

She'd been doing so well, since leaving Mystic Falls. She hadn't been tortured, had not a single person had attempted to kill her in _years_. It was the best kind of boring, working and exploring as she saw fit. Living by _her_ whims and no one else's.

Caroline should have known it couldn't last.

* * *

She must have managed to drift off, because she's jerked awake by the jingle of keys in her front door. Peeling her eyes open she spies Enzo, her heart jumping at how bad he looks. He's deathly pale, bordering on grey, and his eyes look cloudy. Caroline's entire body throbs, and every little shift she makes feels like her skin's tearing.

Bonnie hurries in, appearing stricken, and Caroline's heart sinks. She wets her lips, "We're screwed, aren't we?"

Bonnie puts a hand to her forehead, takes a deep breath, her face hardening. "Don't say that, Caroline. I can't have you getting defeatist on me."

"What did the witch tell you?" Caroline rasps out.

"They're called the Coven of Aragorn, and they've been around for a really long time. Like, from before this was actually Spain. Very wary of outsiders, and other witches give them a wide berth. But from the stories, they're not entirely human. And they dole out severe punishments for anyone who trespasses on land they've claimed."

"Which we did," Enzo pipes up sounding pained. "Plus that small spot of murder."

The look Bonnie shoots him is incredibly unimpressed. "Yeah, that. And since _someone_ insisted I leave my grimoire at home, I'm kind of working blind." She turns to Caroline, "Do you know anyone who can help us? A vampire you're friendly with, maybe? An older one would be helpful."

If she wasn't sure that squirming in guilt would result in serious agony Caroline would be doing it. "A couple, but they're only a century or two. But…"

Bonnie's eyes narrow, easily reading Caroline, despite the fact that they mostly communicate via email and text these days, "But…" she prods expectantly, and with a tiny edge of impatience.

Caroline spits it out in a rush, "I maybe talk to Klaus. Sometimes."

Bonnie's expression flashes shock, but it quickly turns calculating, "Is he still in New Orleans? Because it would take him forever to get here."

"No. An estate outside of Marseille."

Bonnie's contemplative hum is only a _little_ judgmental. Caroline would bristle, but she doesn't have the energy. Besides, t's not like she'd gone and visited him, despite Klaus making it clear that she was welcome anytime.

Enzo struggles to sit up, "What's the dilemma here? Never met him, but I've heard plenty of stories. In terms of help he's kind of ideal, is he not? Old, powerful, with a vested interest in seeing to the well-being of Gorgeous and her dear friend, yes?"

"Yes," Bonnie says, softening and reaching out for Enzo's hand. "Let's call him." She pulls out her phone, and looks at Caroline with equal parts expectancy and resignation. Caroline rattles off Klaus' number, and Bonnie dials before helping Caroline wedge it between her ear and shoulder.

Caroline holds her breath as the call connects. Klaus' greeting, when it comes, is cool and just a touch wary. He probably doesn't give his number out to just anyone, and Caroline imagines he expects the worst when an unfamiliar one comes in. "Hey," Caroline breathes. "It's me."

His reply is significantly warmer, and amused. Enzo raises an amused eyebrow at her, a hint of a smirk letting Caroline know he's listening. "Lose your phone again, love? I thought you'd learned your lesson last time."

Caroline wants to protest, because it had been one time (in her entire cell phone owning life!), but her inhale catches in her throat, sending her coughing and spasming.

"Caroline?" Klaus asks, sounding alarmed. "What's happened? Isn't this the week your little friends were to arrive?""

"Yeah." She swallows hard, several times, her eyes watering. She might have mentioned Bonnie and Enzo's visit, the last time she and Klaus had spoken. She tries to speak again, but nothing comes out. She drops the phone.

Bonnie grabs it reluctantly, "Hi, Klaus."

"Ah, the Bennett witch. Still bringing trouble wherever you go, I see. And here I thought much of the blame for your predicaments rested with the doppelganger. Where is Caroline?" he demands.

"She's right here. But she's… sick, I guess? We tangled with what I'm told is the Coven of Aragorn yesterday. Ring any bells?"

"Yes," Klaus clips out. "Alarming ones. I'll be there directly."

He hangs up without another word. "Well, that went better than I thought it would," Bonnie mutters.

Caroline manages to huff a soft laugh. Bonnie wordlessly gets up, pulls out more blood. Caroline and Enzo drink it silently. "I'm going to try to have a shower," Caroline says, struggling to heave herself to her feet. "I feel disgusting. My skin's all gritty and gross, like I ran naked through a sandstorm or something."

Bonnie steadies her, with a worried frown, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Caroline's not, but she can't stand sitting there, feeling like she does. She tries to be reassuring, "It's fine, Bon. The blood helped."

"Yell if you need me," Bonnie tells her sternly.

"Yeah, yeah. It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before."

Bonnie cracks a smile, "Ah yes, the good old high school days. Your startling lack of locker room boundaries."

"Hey, I had things to do. Sneaky clothes changing gymnastics were a waste of time."

Bonnie shakes her head, "I've missed you, Caroline."

"Well, duh," Caroline drawls. "Who wouldn't? And don't get sentimental, Bonnie Bennett. Not after lecturing me about being a defeatist."

Bonnie's smile is a little shaky, but she nods tightly, before turning away. Caroline leans heavily on the walls of her apartment, gingerly making her way into the bathroom.

She strips her clothes, movements slow and shaky. Something catches her attention in the mirror, when she bends to work the shower taps, and Caroline turns, brushing her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes widen, because her skin more than felt wrong. It looked wrong, oddly discolored and patchy, greenish and mottled. She reaches back, brushes her fingers over an area, and finds it hard and cool to the touch.

Her heart begins to pound, fear making her stomach churn and clench. Caroline sinks her teeth into her lip, nearly drawing blood. She wants to yell out, get Bonnie to confirm that she's not crazy, that she actually appears to be growing _scales_.

But there's no point in freaking Bonnie out more, not with help still a couple hours away. She's teased Klaus occasionally about being an insufferable know it all. He always seemed to have a story or an anecdote about something she was interested in, a new thing she'd tried. It's entirely without rancor, because she'd come to genuinely enjoy hearing his perspective on things, finding the areas where their opinions matched and differed.

If he comes through, his bajillion years and paranoid drive to know everything, the thing that saves her, she'll never mock him again.

Okay, fine. That's maybe a little ambitious.

She won't mock him for a solid month. And she'll stop being such a chicken and treat herself to that plane ticket to his neck of the woods that she's almost bought a half a dozen times.

* * *

Waking up the next time is difficult, Caroline's mind fighting consciousness as she struggles under a heavy cloud of grogginess. She'd been exhausted after her shower, had made it to her bed largely because she was too stubborn to collapse. She had crawled in naked, the idea of putting on clothes not something she was willing to contemplate. She'd run her hands over her body with something like dread in the shower, finding more places that no longer felt like skin. On her stomach, along her ribcage. Her inner thigh, just above her knee. Each one had sent a new burst of panic through her and she'd retreated to her bed, determined not to let it show.

The heat in the apartment had been cranked up, but Caroline had still felt chilly, and had closed her eyes and called for Bonnie. Insisted that she just wanted to rest, but could Bonnie be the bestest and grab her blankets?

It appears like Bonnie had, because Caroline's under a thick layer of them. She registers a body, crawling into her bed, hands gently shifting her until her back's cradled against a firm chest. She relaxes, knowing it's Klaus. She remembers his scent, thinks she should probably protest, because she's naked here and he hadn't been invited. But he's so warm, she finds herself burrowing into him, tangling their calves together.

She's been trembling, cold despite the warm air around her, and Klaus shushes her, one of his hands dropping to her belly. He sounds resigned, when he speaks, "You do like to get creative with your enemies, don't you, sweetheart?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Caroline protests.

Klaus rests his forehead on her shoulder, "That particular coven isn't fond of vampires. Kol's fault. I thought we'd gotten rid of them but there must have been a straggler or two."

"The one time I wish you hadn't gotten sloppy with your murdering," Caroline muses.

She feels him smile, but he stays quiet. She kind of wants to ask him to strip, thinking his skin against hers would feel pretty amazing right now. Running hot is a hybrid thing, and she's never been more grateful for it. She clears her throat, battling her apprehension. But Caroline's never backed away from hard truths, "What did they do to us?"

Klaus sighs, "It's incredibly old magic. Creative and meant to inflict pain. Once upon a time the coven was employed by the royal family, devised terrible punishments for trespasses. Forcing a human to shift forms was one of them. It would kill a human in a matter of hours, their bones cracking and tearing through their skin. But your body, the magic that keeps you alive, is fighting it."

"For how long?" Caroline asks, pressing her lips together when her voice wavers.

Klaus hesitates, the motions of his hands continuing, as if he's trying to soothe her, "Days. Maybe a week, if we can't stop it. And then you'll change."

"Into what?" Caroline blurts out, and it comes out cracked in her horror.

"I've heard different stories, never seen it happen myself. There are legends. I've got people securing us a place to stay, somewhere with more space."

He's trying to distract her, but Caroline's not having it. She turns, letting out a pained groan. Klaus goes rigid for a moment, but he helps her, letting her burrow into his shoulder. "What legends?" she mumbles, muffled by his t-shirt.

"I'll stop it, Caroline," he promises, his hands going to her hair. "And if I can't I'll fix it. I promise."

Caroline pulls back enough to look at him, fixes him with a hard glare, "What. Legends. Klaus?"

Klaus sighs, eyes soft and sympathetic. He cups her cheek, his thumb brushing over her jaw. "What do you know of wyverns, love?"

**Jumping From The Bow**

**(Prompt: ****"i'm a siren and you're a pirate but i decide not to kill u because you're actually really really REALLY cute oh shit" Klaroline au Please! Title from 'Into the Ocean' by Blue October. Rated M-ish? Mild Smut).**

Somehow Caroline always _feels_ it, before she hears it. The melody sinks into her skin, dancing along her tendons and bones. The fine hairs on her arms stand on end and she sways, her body betraying her by going pliant and eager. And then the notes hit her, low and sensual. Seductive.

That's usually the point where Kat snaps her neck.

They're all affected by the songs that pour out of the deep along this part of their usual route. But none so much as Caroline. She'd had one leg over the rail the first time they'd sailed this part of the coast. It had been automatic, no thought in her head but _more_. Of the sound, the feelings it stirred in her. She'd been greedy and desperate and had fought the arms that had attempted to hold her back.

To no avail. She had three decades of vampirism on her, but the rest of the crew still had at least a century more than that. Kat and Enzo had wrestled her off the deck, shoved her into her quarters and held her down until her senses had returned. When she'd come round Kat had been straddling her, looking highly amused, "I know it's been awhile for you, Sweet Pea, but diving into the sea to fuck a siren will not end well."

Caroline had shaken her hair out of her face, sat up on her elbows, "A what?"

"Siren," Enzo had supplied, from where he'd been helping himself to her share of the rum they'd smuggled on one of their recent jobs. She'd been about to scold him (because it wasn't her fault he didn't know how to pace himself) but he'd continued speaking, not heeding her black look in the slightest, "Predators of the deep, luring sailors to their deaths with the power of their songs."

"Those exist?" Caroline had asked.

"Why so skeptical?" Katherine had drawled pointedly. "Vampire."

Caroline had supposed they made a good point.

"They don't do much for us, make us a little tingly but that's easy enough to resist. Not sure why you were gagging to go overboard," Katherine had said, tipping her head to the side and staring at Caroline contemplatively.

Caroline blushes, remembering the images that had flashed through her mind, the hands and mouth that had been stroking her so expertly in her imagination. How she'd twisted and moaned. It had seemed so _real_. She scrambles for an explanation, "Maybe because I wasn't prepared? If I'd know what was happening I might have been able to fight it."

Enzo had shrugged, and finished the last of his pilfered rum, "I guess we'll see, won't we? There's still the return trip."

* * *

It hadn't seemed like an ominous statement at the time, but it kind of turned out to be.

The return trip hadn't been much better. Caroline had once again fallen prey to the Siren's song. Katherine had bitten out an expletive, yanked Caroline by her shoulder, before locking her head between her hands. Caroline had woken up crumpled on the deck (and not happy about it) but she'd been mollified by the snack Kat had brought for her. A man from a town near where they'd docked. He'd been very handsome. She'd contemplated relieving some of her… tension, having woken up achy and damp between her thighs. He'd looked at her with a certain amount of appreciation, and it would have been easy enough to undo her braids, seduce him with soft smiles and fleeting touches. But the idea had left Caroline cold. Something about his dark hair and bulky musculature had put her off.

In the end she'd just drunk from him, and he'd been pretty tasty. She'd even let him live, sending him unsteadily down the gangplank, with a compelled story about getting drunk and wandering through port.

She'd still given Kat the silent treatment for the next three days.

Caroline had secretly hoped that she could avoid another incident like those two. That they'd take jobs that would take them far away from that particular piece of ocean.

But Caroline had never had much luck with wishes, good fortune not a thing she'd ever been able to rely on. She'd become accustomed to scraping and clawing for the things she wanted, carving out the life she wanted.

So she hadn't been surprised when, less than a month later, a run had taken them back. She'd nearly swallowed her considerable pride and asked Enzo to do the honors and leave her temporarily dead in her bunk, but there's no way Kat wouldn't have found out, no way she wouldn't have needled Caroline at every opportunity (for decades and centuries to come) for taking the coward's way out.

She'd been on deck, with the rest of the crew, head held high as they'd worked to steer the boat through the rocky waters. Caroline had focused on her breathing, attempted to clear her mind, to resist the heady lure of that voice.

She'd made a better effort, that third time, the sensations not so foreign. Caroline had frozen, at the first phantom caress, had balled her fists and let her nails cut into her palms to attempt to distract herself. But her resistance had crumbled, embarrassingly fast for a girl as iron willed as Caroline knew herself to be. She'd taken one step port-side, and Enzo had been there. He made a mockingly disappointed noise, shaking his head. "I really was rooting for you, Gorgeous," he'd told her. Right before swift hands reached out and wrenched her neck.

Enzo was at least polite enough to put her in her bed like a civilized person.

By the fourteenth voyage Caroline's had _enough_.

She awakens with a growl, finds the ship docked and deserted. Caroline puts on her nicest dress, the one that leaves her breasts barely contained, and lets her hair spill down her back in riotous curls. She paints her lips red and her lashes dark. She stalks off of the ship, follows the sounds of laughter and revelry into a tavern. Turns heads, with her disheveled appearance and scandalous dress.

She gets a drink, and makes eyes at a pretty sailor. He's young, and fair, almost cherubic looking. He appears flabbergasted to have caught her attention, and his hands shake when Caroline grasps one, leaning down and asking him to dance with her.

She presses her curves against him for two songs, before she licks her lips and asks him to join her for a walk. He's clumsy, but eager, and Caroline directs his hands under her skirts when she presses him against a wall. Rubs her thigh against his straining cock and tears into his neck.

He can't quite seem to find a pleasing rhythm, his fingers merely plunge, no finesse to the movement. And his attentions to her clit are inconsistent and at times overly harsh, leaving her wincing. Caroline finding herself frustrated and highly annoyed, drinks deeper then she'd meant to. She doesn't hear anyone approach, lets out a snarl when she'd pulled away. "No killing in the middle of a run, remember? It's bad for business," Enzo reminds her, the scold mild and more amused then anything. He offers her a handkerchief, and bends to where her dance partner's slumped on the ground. Feels for a pulse, "A touch slow, but it's there. He should be fine."

Caroline rolls her eyes and bites into her wrist. Roughly tips the boy's head back and wrenches his mouth open with her thumb on his chin. She lets a scant mouthful pour down his throat, enough to heal him, before she turns to leave.

Enzo trails after her, "Not going for another go? That seemed a bit… unsatisfying."

She narrows her eyes and glares at him, but Enzo stares straight ahead, keeping pace with Caroline's swift angry stride, "It was, actually. And I suspect another attempt would yield similar results."

"Sounds like a dire turn of events," Enzo notes. "You get a bit cranky when you're pent up."

Oh, Caroline knows. It's been a struggle not to tear into the crew, verbally or otherwise, for the tiniest mistakes lately. Her patience rides a razors edge, and Caroline knows a snap is inevitable. Unless…

A thought hits her, so brilliant that she's kicking herself for not considering it before. She finds herself giggling, pleased and giddy.

Enzo looks interested, and a bit wary, "There's something ominous about that sound," he muses.

Caroline smiles brightly at him, loops her arm through his, "Me? Ominous? That's unkind, Enzo. I've merely decided a new hobby is in order."

"Oh? Do tell."

Caroline's smile turns satisfied, "What do you know about fishing?"

* * *

Now, they hadn't been able to go directly as much as Caroline had wanted to. Capturing a creature of myth and legend required a little _finesse_. A bit of research, some help from Katherine's contacts. A visit to a witch, favors exchanged, a net fortified with magic. It took weeks before they were ready to set out, accompanied only be a skeleton crew of vampires. No one who could be easily tempted by the Siren's allure. Caroline herself had been fitted with a necklace, an ugly thing, but it was said to offer protection, was supposed to stop her from throwing herself at their captive, the second he was onboard.

Nearing the usual spot, Caroline's nervous, pacing the deck restlessly. She holds her breath when she first feels it, anxiously waits for the hazy feeling that usually envelops her senses to overcome her. But it doesn't. The usual arousal's there, her nipples tight and straining against her bodice. But she can think through it, her reason intact.

So perhaps the necklace could stay, despite its affront to her sense of fashion.

They typically aim for speed, blow through this section of their route as quickly as possible. But not this time. This time they're hunting, and they slow accordingly. Caroline makes her way to the rail, and Kat flashes over, "Please tell me that we didn't spend good money on a useless trinket and you still want to hurl yourself overboard?"

"We didn't spend good money on a useless trinket," Caroline repeats dutifully. "I'm fine. But I think…"she furrows her brow, contemplates the nagging thoughts in her brain, urging her in a certain direction. "I think I know where to go."

If Kat thinks she's crazy, she doesn't show it, stepping back and barking at the crew to navigate according to Caroline's commands. Caroline closes her eyes and listens to her instincts, the necklace resting hot and heavy against her throat.

They only have to throw the net once.

Their prey struggles mightily, and the boat lists, until all hands pitch in to raise it up. He struggles, his powerful tail caught in the ropes, hands clutching at it, trying to tear, the lean muscles of his arms and shoulders straining. Caroline winces, feeling a pang of sympathy, as he's dumped harshly onto the deck. His eyes snap to hers immediately, a deep blue that burns with annoyance.

Caroline finds she can't look away, not even when Katherine sidles up beside her, "My, my," she murmurs appreciatively, eyes drinking the Siren in. "Isn't he something to look at? I kind get why you were so eager to dive right in."

Caroline doesn't answer, disconcerted by how close his face resembles that of the imaginary lover who's been starring in her dreams and fantasies since she'd first heard his music. How was that possible? Caroline wondered. She felt as if she knew the fullness of those lips on hers, the texture of his skin. The feel of his curls caught between her fingers/

Kat doesn't seem to need Caroline's response, barks orders for the siren to be taken to her cabin. It's the largest, and they've rigged a tub, because Caroline had insisted they not kill him, unless absolutely necessary.

Surely a calm conversation could be had? It was unlikely that he'd targeted her specifically, probably just doing what was in his nature. A mutually beneficial agreement wherein he agreed to keep a lid on it when their ship sailed past his home (Lair? Lagoon? Caroline wasn't certain which term he'd prefer) and they released him back into the waters he haunted.

Caroline waits as long as she can make herself, before heading below decks. Kat and Enzo smirk at her knowingly, when she enters the room, but clear it obligingly. "I'll leave you two to your business," Kat murmurs as she leaves. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Caroline had no idea what that had been supposed to mean. The list of things Kat wouldn't do was awfully short, from what Caroline had gleaned over the years.

She stands tall, and crosses her arms, refuses to let her nerves show as she approaches the metal tub he's lounging in. He looks completely at ease, powerful. Like a king receiving subjects and not a prisoner. His brows rise, interest flickering, "You're a vampire as well?"

"Yes," Caroline sniffs. "And I don't appreciate you trying to kill me."

"Whoever said I was trying to kill you?"

Caroline scoffs, "Sirens don't exactly have a stellar reputation for catching and releasing."

He sinks lower in the tub, conceding her point, "Perhaps. What's your name, love?"

"Does it matter?"

"My name is Klaus," he tells her, ignoring her sarcasm. "And I was not, in fact, trying to kill you. Something about your mind called to mine, a rare occurrence. I merely sought to find out more."

Caroline edges closer, eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Something about my mind? Am I supposed to swoon now?"

He grins, "I hardly think you're the swooning sort. Much too sensible."

And Caroline has no idea why, because it's completely crazy, but she finds herself wanting to smile back. She refuses to, pressing her lips together in a tight line, glancing away.

When she's confident she can be stern, she walks a few paces closer. "Look, we need to work this out. Because I'll kill you if I need to. Running product through your territory saves us time, and time is money. But it's kind of a hassle that I keep trying to take a dip in the ocean every time you open your stupid tempting mouth. One of these days Kat might not be fast enough, and then who knows how long it'll take to fish me out? We might miss a deadline, and I do _not_ miss deadlines. Because I'm _sensible_."

He doesn't seem bothered by the threats of murder, if anything the light in his eyes grows hot and hungry in response. "Why don't you come here," he suggests silkily, tongue peeking out to wet his full lower lip. "And I'll show you why it would be a pity to kill me."

She takes a step, a big one, her body wanting what he's offering. But she shakes herself, digging her toes into the floor. "Ugh, stop it! I am not having sex with you."

"Not yet," he corrects. "And I wasn't asking you to. That's not what you think of, when your mind reaches out for me. You want to be pleasured, sweetheart. Held open and teased until you beg for that final push to send you reeling. You want my mouth, licking at your arousal, my tongue toying with your clit."

Caroline flushes hot and goes still, "You can see my thoughts?" she hisses, mortification warring with unease.

"Not all the time," he assures her. "Just when you're thinking of me."

"I don't think of you! I've never met you."

"Are you sure about that, Caroline?"

Her eyes widen, "How do you know my name?"

"You used to sit out on the rocks, at your family's summer home. Sometimes you read aloud, sometimes you'd just talk. I listened."

"You mean you lurked," Caroline accuses, her mind racing. She'd loved that house, when she was very young. Liked to bask in the sun on the rocks he spoke of, listen to the water lapping. It had been soothing, and now that she's let herself remember she realizes that she'd dearly missed it.

She'd taken to sea life well, and maybe those summer trips were the reason why.

"Perhaps," he allows. "In the beginning you were easy prey, but I could never bring myself to lure you into the water. And then your family gathered, talked of your death, and celebrated your short life. And I mourned you, before moving on to warmer waters. Imagine my surprise to find you again, just as I'd last felt you, on a ship half a world away. And to set eyes on you, find you unchanged by time. I don't like to think of myself as subject to the whims of fate, but perhaps I might make an exception. For you."

"Those are very pretty words," Caroline says. Tries for coolness, even as she tells herself that she's not to be swayed by them.

"I have plenty more. Does not make them untrue."

"Prove it," Caroline challenges. "Show me that I can trust you. We're still anchored. I can have you back in the water in minutes. Don't sing to me when I pass next time."

"And if I don't? Will you come visit me, of your own volition?"

Caroline has a sinking feeling that she'll be unable to resist. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll have to learn to trust me too."

He studies her, for several long moments, assessing. Caroline holds her chin high, meets his gaze steadily. "Come here," he entreats softly. "Let's begin this trust you speak of, hmm?"

It's a dare and Caroline's never been very good at shying from those, even when she should. She takes measured steps forward, doesn't flinch when his arm comes out of the water, reaches for her hand. His thumb strokes over the pulse of her wrist. A small smile curls his lips, but he doesn't comment on its wild fluttering. Klaus tugs, until his lips brush over the delicate skin, tongue drawing a teasing circle. "It's a bargain," he agrees. "But if I might make a suggestion?"

Caroline nods, not trusting herself to speak. Or climb into that tub with him if he offers again.

"That necklace. See the witch who made it. She knows my magic. Have her make one for me."

Caroline blinks, confused. "Why?"

His smile is slow, something greedy to it as his eyes drift down her form. "Simple, sweetheart. I love the ocean, but legs have their own advantages. And I suspect you'll feel more comfortable, with the things I wish to do to you, if I have a pair."


	45. Mini Drabble Monday: Kink List 05-09

**Notes: **Some Tumblr drabbles to help with some smut writing. I reblogged one of those kink prompt lists and these are the first batch that resulted. Pretty smutty (except for the second one) so skip if that's not your thing. Enjoy!

**Happy Birthday, Klaus**

**(Prompt: #45 – Ownership/claiming/marking. SMUT).**

Having been banned from his own home for most of the day – Rebekah had insisted he be out of her hair while she prepared (read: drank heavily and ordered compelled humans about) for his 1100th birthday celebration – Klaus was in a bit of a mood.

The infuriatingly knowing smirk Kol had shot him, when he'd wished Klaus a happy birthday when he'd gotten home, had been an added irritant. Making his way upstairs Klaus' temper frays even more when he hears his shower running. He'd put his foot down, insisted that the myriad of old vampire and witch acquaintances Bekah had been invited stay elsewhere. If she'd gone against his wishes, and one of them was plotting a pitiful seduction…

Well, they'd be less a party guest this evening, wouldn't they?

Throwing open the door to his room Klaus is given a moment's pause at seeing the pile of luggage stacked in the middle of the floor. It's well used, the leather scuffed and worn. And he recognizes it, had watched it's owner rifle through the bags, searching for clothes, in dozens of different hotel rooms over the last half-century.

Caroline hadn't set foot in North America since she'd flown out of Richmond after her mother's death.

Until now.

Klaus debates barging in to the bathroom – it is _his_ shower after all – and demanding answers, but the water cuts off before he can do so. He listens to Caroline move about, she hums softly while she pats herself dry. The door clicks open and she steps out, tendrils of steam following her. Her eyes widen when she sees him Klaus and her lips purse faintly in pout he recognizes. She always makes it when a plan's been thwarted, a want denied. He's fond of it, of how she looks when she's twisted in crisp sheets and begging him to make her come. "Hey. I wasn't expecting you so soon."

She's wrapped in a towel, hair dripping over her shoulders and she smells like his soap. It's one of his favorite versions of Caroline Forbes.

"I wasn't expecting you at all," Klaus counters, moving slowly in her direction.

Caroline's chin lifts, her eyes challenging. "I was invited. Rebekah had me tracked down."

"You were invited repeatedly, as I recall. And may I ask why it's my sister's invitation you finally deigned to accept?"

Caroline shrugs, and her towel slips. Klaus' eyes track the gape over her breasts greedily. "There were some very creative threats attached to hers."

_Not_ what he'd wanted to hear.

Clenching his teeth together he changes course, walks passed her, tugging his shirt over his head. "I see. Well, since your visit is _obligatory_, feel free to help yourself to a guest room."

He tenses, at the unmistakable sound of her towel hitting the floor. Caroline pays his dismissal no mind, her tone light, "And I was planning on heading this way anyway. Since it's your birthday. And I know you like those. I'll take the guest room though. My stuff's being delivered next week."

It hits him like a blow, and he's whirling as it lands, his shock open and apparent. "Repeat that," he demands, stalking towards her.

Caroline holds her ground, only the tiniest flutter of her hands at her sides betraying her nerves. "I had my storage space emptied. Sixty-two years worth of my assorted crap is going to show up at your door next week. I might need more than one room, now that I think about it."

Klaus presses his body to hers, dips his head to run his nose along her throat. Her pulse is just a touch too fast, blood rushing just below the surface of her skin. He's fairly certain that he understands what she's saying, and he'll give her all the rooms she desires if he's correct. She swallows hard when he rests his hands on her, his thumbs stroking over the delicate skin below her hipbone. "Speak plainly, Caroline. If you're here to stay, be certain it's what you want." He kisses her throat, reacquainting himself with the taste of her skin. "Because I won't let you go."

Caroline shudders against him, her head falling back. "This _is_ what I want. I want you."

He wraps an arm around her waist, lets his mouth wander down. "You'll be mine. _Only_ mine."

Her laugh is breathy, and her hands wind into his hair when he licks her nipple, tugging when he uses his teeth, "I can't tell if you're trying to persuade me or warn me away."

He bites a little harder, pulls back to watch the mark fade. "I think I've been plenty persuasive, over the years. Perhaps a warning or two is only fair? A little taste of how things will be."

Her expression clouds with confusion, and Klaus grins. Her breath hitches when he palms her arse, yanking her up against him. She's already wet, the tantalizing scent of it in the air as he grinds her bare center against his jeans. Caroline moans, claws at his shoulders. She tries to rock against him but Klaus takes a few long strides, dropping her on to his bed and pulling back before she can get much relief. "Let's play a little game, love," he purrs.

It's not a new phrase, had preceded many spectacular encounters, and Caroline's eyes drift shut for a moment, her fingers clenching in the sheets. They've come a long way from that first time, grappling together on the forest floor. They've spent days in bed together, and he's slowly teased out the things she likes, shown her a few more he's certain she'd never have suspected she'd find so gratifying. Her chest rises and falls quickly, and when her lashes lift again the blue of her irises has darkened. She nods shakily, "Okay."

"Heels on the bed. Spread your legs. Hands on your nipples."

She shudders, her inhale shaky as she does as he's asked, and Klaus leisurely begins undoing his belt, his eyes drawn between her legs to where she's slick and flushed. She toys with her nipples, hips shifting restlessly as she strokes and tugs. Klaus kicks off his boots, discards his pants and socks and steps closer. He ghosts a fingertip over her entrance, before letting it travel up, painting her clit with her wetness. Caroline whines softly as he withdraws. He parts her folds, and rubs his cock along them for several moments, before pulling back and wrapping his hand around himself, stroking himself firmly. The motions are practiced, the sight of Caroline in his bed, nipples taut and skin turning pink compelling. It's not long before he feels the familiar tightening that signals his release is coming. Klaus presses the head of his cock to her clit as he spills, and Caroline's eyes roll back, a gasp leaving her throat.

He takes a step away, and clears his throat. But the roughness in his tone remains as he watches his release coat her flesh, mingle with the evidence of how much she wants him. "I need to shower, before the party starts. I want you to stay here, and touch yourself while I do that."

Caroline bites her lip, squirming below him, one of her hands sliding down her belly eagerly. Klaus catches it, pressing down to still her. "But _don't_ come. I want you to get yourself just to the edge, where your thighs are twitching and you've soaked your fingers. And then I want you to stop and do it again. And again, until you hear the water turn off."

He lets her hand go, and Caroline's fingers continue their journey and slide through her folds for a moment, before a wicked smirk crosses her lips. She brings her finger up to her lips, daintily licking their combined fluids from it with a pleased little hum. Klaus' cock twitches in response, and only centuries of firmly honed control stop him from diving on to her.

The wait will be worth it, in the end.

"And if I do?" she wonders, "What do I get?"

"Good girls get rewards. I'll use my mouth, let you come on my tongue. Then I'll flip you on to your hands and knees, and fuck you until you come around my cock."

Caroline's lips part, her head tipping back as she slides two fingers inside of her body, back arching against the mattress, thrusting her breasts in the air. "Sounds like I'm going to need another shower."

Klaus shakes his head, "No, I'm afraid not. I imagine you bought a tempting little dress to wear this evening, did you not? Sinful scraps of lace to go underneath?"

Caroline's widening smirk confirms his suspicion about her intentions. "Panties, yeah. But a bra won't work with the dress."

"Ah, yes. You do like to tease me in public."

"Mmm. It is pretty fun," she murmurs, eyes heavy lidded as she brings her free hand down to tease her clit.

"And I let you have your fun before, sweetheart. Managed to behave, and only kill a few of the human men who looked at you like they thought they could have you. That's done. Tonight I want my scent on you. After I've fucked you, when my come stains your thighs, I'm going to touch you again. Work you up until you're aching for me, until the tiniest touch to your clit will push you over. But I won't. And neither will you. You'll get dressed, slip those pretty knickers you bought for me on, and come down to the party on my arm. Every vampire down there will know that you're _mine_, and how much you like it."

"Sounds like torture," Caroline gasps. She plays with her nipple again, and Klaus bends to lick off the trace of her arousal she's left there. She presses up with a whimper, chasing his mouth as he pulls back.

"I mean it to be. Just when you think you've calmed down, I'll find you. I'll whisper dirty things in your ear, or slip my hand under your dress. Rub that lace against your clit until you're right back to being desperate for me."

"Klaus…" Caroline moans, lips wet and parted. The motions of her hand pick up, her palm rubbing over her clit as she fucks herself with rapid strokes. She's beginning to thrash, thighs spread wide.

Klaus makes a chiding noise, "Careful, love. Wouldn't want to lose so soon, would you?"

She shakes her head, hair spreading out behind her, "I won't," she mutters hoarsely, "Just a little more…" He watches her avidly as her muscles grow taut and quiver. Little moans and whines fall from her. Caroline's toes curl into the edge of the mattress and her back leaves it, her weight supported mostly by her shoulders. "Fuck. I'm so…" a string of curses follow and she pants as she pulls her hand away abruptly.

Caroline closes her eyes, puts real effort into pulling herself back, face tight with strain as she stretches out her arms. She glares up at him after a few moments, more playful than irritated though Klaus suspects that will change, after another few self-denials.

He looks forward to coaxing her out of her temper later.

"I thought you said something about a shower?" she tells him pointedly, rolling her head to look at the bathroom door.

Klaus leans down, brushes his lips over hers, "So I did. Thank you for the reminder. Perhaps I'll make it a long one, hmm?"

Her moan is drawn out, frustrated, as he leaves the bed. But she's clever, so she doesn't protest. If she had, he might have actually made good on the threat.

There's always next time.

**Jump**

**(Prompt: #26 – Wing!Kink/Other Non-human Traits. No smut but suggestive, I guess?)**

In her position, chained to a wall in a gross dank cave, about to be a freaking sacrifice, it probably wasn't smart to bare her fangs and snarl at the witch that approached. But screw it, there was no way Caroline was going to go out sniveling and pleading for mercy from a guy who, according to all reports, had none to spare.

Klaus looks amused rather than irritated standing a few feet away. "Such spirit," he remarks, watching her with a twitch of interest that makes Caroline nervous. "And so very pretty. Shame you have to die."

Caroline's about to snap something (probably ill advised) back, but the witch makes an annoyed noise, shaking her head. "We can't use her."

Klaus straightens, expression darkening. His tone is a low, dangerous, demand and the witch cringes slightly in response. "Explain, Greta."

"She's not a vampire."

"I beg your pardon?" Klaus says, drifting closer. He takes in Caroline's red eyes, the black veins and fangs she has on full display. "Looks an awful lot like a vampire to me."

"She's not _just_ a vampire," the witch rushes to explain. She steps forward, hand outstretched. "Some kind of demon," Greta continues, head tipped to the side in contemplation. "I'm betting Harpy."

"Um, what? Pretty sure I'd know if I were a _demon_," Caroline interrupts.

"Not if you were bound," the witch tells her snidely. "Did you know vampires existed, before you became one? It's a big world out there, little girl."

Caroline lashes out, nearly manages to sink her fangs into the bitch's forearm, but Klaus' hand on her throat stops her. He squeezes, a hint of a threat, "Easy, love. I'm intrigued but don't test me. I need Greta do the ritual so mind your manners, hmm?" She glares, but forces herself to relax against the wall. Klaus' thumb strokes her skin, oddly soothing, given their positions. "Good," he murmurs. "I knew you'd see things my way, sweetheart. Now, Greta. Please proceed."

Greta's hands latch on to Caroline's head, and her eyes fall closed. Her face twists, effort apparent though Caroline feels nothing put a faint pull.

At first.

Then her back starts to itch. Dully, but with more intensity as Greta begins to chant. Caroline shifts, trying to get some relief from the feeling by rubbing against the stone at her back. Her nails elongate, and her vision changes, sharpening far beyond what she's become accustomed to. Two sharp stabs, placed between her shoulder blades have her crying out, and she rips away from the wall, the previously immovable metal bindings giving like paper, as she slumps to the ground. "Out," Klaus clips out, shoving Greta towards the entrance to the cave. "Be a dear and check on the collection of the werewolf, would you?"

Klaus' minions are apparently well trained, and Caroline hears footsteps retreat quickly, even as she digs her hands into the dirt, the pain along her spine intensifying. Klaus crouches down next to her, a touch of sympathy in his gaze. "I only turned the one time. But I recall it was excruciating."

"And yet, you want to do it again?" Caroline pants out, eyes squeezing shut as another shudder wracks her body.

"I dislike the idea that I can't. That my mother _took_ my wolf from me."

A control freak. Of course. Caroline supposed she could relate. She would be having serious words with her parents about this Harpy thing later. Would it have killed them to have given her a heads up? Caroline's gaze snaps up, feeling Klaus' fingertips on the back of her neck. "It's just wings, love. A few more minutes and they'll be out. It should only hurt this once."

"Ugh," Caroline groans. "Awesome. Just like losing my virginity, right?"

Klaus laughs, though he seems to attempt to smother it quickly. "_That_ doesn't have to hurt. Though I suspect whatever fumbling teenage boy who had the honor mucked it up."

She's too distracted by what's happening to her body, the bizarre sensation of her vertebrae grinding together, _changing_, to register that she _really_ should shut up. "Oh boy, did he ever. There really should be less talk of condoms, more talk of locating the clit, in sex ed."

Another low sound of amusement, and Klaus' hand wanders lower as he settles on to the ground. He rips away the back of her shirt, and it flutters uselessly down over her arms. Caroline's about to protest, but he urges her down onto her stomach moving so his firm hands are massaging down the length of her spine.

And any intentions of telling him off kind of fly out the window, because it feels really good, eases the worst of the painful spasms. "Tell me about Harpies," she demands, needing something else to focus on. "I was just getting a handle on the whole vampire thing. I like to be prepared."

Klaus indulges her. "You'll be stronger, as you've likely already noticed. Faster, your senses heightened far beyond that of a vampire your age. Flight is now possible. I've only encountered a few, in all my centuries. They're exceedingly rare."

"Great," Caroline grumbles. "I'm a super freak of nature, just what I've always wanted."

"Don't you see the appeal, Caroline? Of being special, powerful?"

He sounds genuinely curious, and Caroline can't say that he's wrong. Her life has gotten exponentially more dangerous, since Katherine killed her. She fought back, but many of her opponents had more weapons than she did. "Maybe," she admits grudgingly.

"I have several volumes, in my collection, that might have information that's useful to you. If you'd like to stop by my house next week..."

Caroline snorts, turns her head to look at him, "You basically just offered to show me your etchings. _After_ you kill a couple of my friends. Why would I go for that?"

Klaus' eyes turn calculating, "Perhaps you've a point. I'll spare the werewolf boy, how's that? You're fond of him, from what I've seen. I can always find another."

"And Elena?"

The denial is immediate. "Impossible. The doppelganger is a crucial ingredient."

"Then I'm going to have to pass."

"Pity," Klaus muses. Her skin begins to shift, under his hands, twitching wildly, and he lifts them away. "Ah, just about done, then."

"What?" Caroline asks, craning her head to try to see. She lets out a short shriek, feeling her skin tear, her nails dig harshly into the ground. She can smell the blood, dripping down her spine in both directions, and then she sees the _wings_. They flutter when she looks at them, pulling at the rapidly healing skin.

Gossamer thin and transparent, edged in black with spidery veins running throughout, they're kind of a shock. She's blinking at them stupidly, doesn't register that Klaus is reaching for out, until she _feels_ his touch. He's achingly gentle, tracing the top of one, but the sensation rockets through her entire body, bright bursts of electricity, leaving her shivering.

But not from cold.

He does it again, lips curling into a smirk. Caroline's eyes flutter shut, absorbing the new feeling, fighting the urge to arch her back at the crawling pleasure of it. She stills, feeling his breath against her skin, bites her lip to keep in the moan that wants to spill out, when he laps at a trail of blood while his fingers continue their strokes to her wing.

God, this shouldn't be turning her on.

One last rough stroke of his tongue, a noise of delight buried in her feverish skin and he's gone, getting to his feet. His voice is low, a smooth enticement, "I'd forgotten how _good_ your kind tastes. My offer stands, love. Come find me if you get curious. I'll lend you the books. Or if you'd like a more hands on demonstration of what you can do, I'd be happy to provide one."

He retreats, steps echoing out of the cave, and it takes an enormous amount of willpower for Caroline not to call him back, the ache between her thighs persuasive and warring with her returning rational mind.

Klaus was still the bad guy. She had to remember that.

**Right Face, Wrong Time**

**(Prompt: #57 – Rough Sex + #59 – Wall Sex. Title from "I Don't Want To Fall In Love" by She Wants Revenge. SMUT).**

Caroline hadn't expected to end the night between Klaus and a brick wall, but she really wasn't going to complain.

Not with his lips on her throat, and his hands frantic on her skin. He hitches one of her legs around his waist, rocking roughly against her. She moans, pulling him into her harder, the friction between his jeans and her panties a frustrating tease.

She wants more.

She hadn't seen him in years, not since she'd blown through New Orleans right before she'd left to see the world. She'd stayed a couple days longer than planned and saw almost none of the sights, finding plenty to occupy herself inside the four walls of Klaus' bedroom.

Klaus showing up at the bar she worked at in Berlin (bartending might not have been what she dreamed of as a little girl, but Caroline found it suited her current purposes nicely - good money, flexible schedules, easy feeding and no guilt when she got bored and decided to hop to another city) had been a shock.

Seriously, couldn't he have called first? She was entirely certain he kept tabs on her, some of his lackeys dearly needing a refresher in discretion. Although it was possible that was on purpose, that maybe Klaus would believe he was being less creepy if she was aware of her security detail.

She'd had her customer smile on, friendly, a little flirty, when she'd looked up to take a drink order and there Klaus had been. Hair a little longer than the last time she'd seen him (and yeah, it worked for her) but otherwise unchanged, smirk in place. Caroline's eyes had narrowed, and she'd turned, poured him a glass of the best bourbon they stocked and plopped it down in front of him. "I don't have time for you," she'd told him haughtily.

She'd caught his, "I'll wait, love," too faint for any non-vampire to hear, easily as she'd turned to the next person waiting for a drink.

And he had. Caroline had found herself seeking him out, whenever there was a brief lull. He always seemed to have a woman nearby, and they were usually gorgeous and scantily clad.

_Not_ that she was jealous.

She'd caught his eye when it was time to take her break, and he'd detached himself from the brunette who'd been gazing at him adoringly. Letting herself out from behind the bar she'd stalked towards him. "Klaus, seriously. Why are you here?"

He'd reached out, fingered a loose curl, "Not happy to see me? And I thought we parted on such _good_ terms."

Caroline had narrowed her eyes, and batted his hand away, "Only if you call fucking in the backseat of your SUV in the airport parking lot _good_."

Klaus had favored her with a mystified look, "I would, actually. And I don't recall a whisper of complaint from you."

She'd crossed her arms, and refused to be baited. He might have kind of had a point, and she'd known she'd been being kind of unreasonable. It had taken her forever to stop thinking about him when she'd first arrived in Europe, the temptation to call him nagging her at every turn. She wasn't supposed to have missed him, but she had. And that had been scary.

She didn't want to do it all over again.

"Klaus, I'm working. Whatever you want can wait until tomorrow. I need to eat." She'd spun on her heel and hadn't bothered to wait for a reply. She'd assumed that Klaus would leave, give her a chance to pull herself together.

A mistake.

She'd forced herself to calm down, scanned the clubgoers for an appealing target.

Caroline totally stood by the 'cute boys just taste better' thing.

She'd found one quickly, and if the lean build and stubble were what hooked her, well there was no one around to judge. She'd asked him to dance, and he'd been practically eating out of the palm of her hand, heart racing and reeking of arousal when she'd pressed her breasts to his chest. A crook of her finger and he'd followed her, into a darkened hallway that was reserved for employees.

Caroline had shoved him against the door, catching his gaze. She's compelled him not to struggle, make noise or feel pain, and then she'd dug her fangs into his throat. She'd taken more than she should've, Klaus' appearance throwing her and shaking her usually perfect control. She'd muttered an apology, even though he wouldn't remember, and had dug into her own wrist, dripping enough of her blood into his mouth to heal him.

Another round of compulsion and he'd been on his way.

That was when she'd been dealt another shock. Klaus _hadn't_ left. Had, in fact, been standing right on the other side of the door when Caroline had opened it.

Which had led to her current predicament.

Fresh blood pumping through her veins, and Klaus looking at her like that – hungry and covetous and so very enthralled – it just hadn't been possible to resist when he'd surged into her, sucked her lower lip between his teeth. A rough groan had rumbled through him when he licked into her mouth, and Caroline's hands had fisted in his shirt, needing something to hang on to.

He'd pulled back, attacked her throat with rough kisses, and urged her against the wall. "Is there anyone else back here?" he'd asked her.

Caroline had shaken her head. "No. This leads to a cellar. Emergency exit but it doesn't open from the outside."

"Good," Klaus had gritted out. He reached out, and she heard metal grinding as he destroyed the doorknob.

She felt the rough bricks at her back, and lost herself for long minutes. In his soft lips and rough beard on her skin, his hands teasing her thighs, nails digging into the curve of her ass. She lets out a moan when he lifts her, pressing her tightly to the wall. He pulls back and looks at her face, a darkly calculating expression on his.

Caroline knows it doesn't bode well for her. She squirms, tries to distract him. Only succeeds in making herself moan once more, when the hard ridge of his zipper presses against her just right. "Such a cold greeting," Klaus muses, nose running along the neckline of her shirt. "And now here you are, hot and wet and wanting in my arms. Would you like to explain why, love? You visited me, in my city. Am I not allowed to stop by the one you're calling home?"

"It's not like that," she denies weakly, sucking in a breath when his hands slide under her shirt. He's annoyingly slow about it, his rough palms making a slow glide up her torso. And he stops, his thumbs gliding over the under curves of her breasts, just dipping under the wire of her bra.

"Tell me what it's like, Caroline," he demands softly, but there's steel underneath.

Caroline throws her head back against the wall, closes her eyes. She wants to lie, pull some flimsy excuse about having a crappy day out of nowhere, but he'll know. Instead, a version of the truth comes out, quick and clipped. "I'm supposed to be having fun, okay? No strings, no attachments. Caroline Forbes Does Europe Vampire Style. And you almost screwed that up for me last time."

"You came to me, sweetheart," Klaus points out. Annoyingly reasonably, but at least he's moved one of his hands, fingertips teasing her nipple into a tight peak.

"I know," she sighs.

"Do you regret it?" Klaus asks curiously.

God, she's often wished that she _could_.

Caroline swallows, meets his eyes steadily, "No."

Klaus grins, pleased and feral in the dim light. "Good. Then I forgive you for your appalling rudeness earlier in the evening and will allow you to make it up to me."

Caroline's mouth falls open but her indignant, 'Hell, no' never makes it past her lips. Klaus has worked his hand between them, shredded her underwear, and buried two fingers inside of her. It comes out more like a squeak. His thumb passes over her clit, rubbing with the perfect amount of pressure. She claws at his shirt, tearing it away, digging her nails into his shoulders as she rides his fingers. "Klaus," she moans, "More."

He bends his head, bites into her neck with blunt teeth and Caroline jolts. She wants fangs, the burn of his venom followed by his blood on her tongue, but Klaus is speaking, distracting her. "Did that boy taste good, Caroline? I couldn't help but notice a certain resemblance."

Ugh, of course he had. His fingers move faster, hooking inside of her, scraping against a spot on her inner walls that leaves her breathless and crying out. His circles on her clit roughen, and her thighs twitch in response.

"Did you think of me, when you drank from him? Think of this?"

He doesn't seem to expect an answer, and Caroline's beyond being able to formulate one. One last thrust and she's there, moaning as she comes, shuddering against him. He sets her down immediately, and Caroline lets out a confused noise. Klaus' hands are urgent, turning her around. "Hands on the wall, love."

He hears his belt jingle, possibly something tearing. Caroline sets shaky hands on the wall, arching her back when he shoves her skirt up. One of his hands delves back under her shirt, ripping her bra away. She feels the brush of the other on her ass, just before the tip of his cock prods at her entrance. He thrusts in, stretching her _perfectly_, and Caroline gropes behind her, tangling her hand into his hair. He stills for a long moment, taut at her back. She feels his breath on her neck, the harsh gusts of air making her shiver. Caroline tips her head to the side, the invitation clear. "Bite," she tells him, circling her hips. "Drink. Please."

A rough groan is the only warning she gets, followed by the brief sharp pain of him tearing into her skin. Caroline whimpers, but he shoves his wrist in front of her mouth, and she bites down immediately, drinking greedily.

She's dabbled in blood sharing, tasted hundreds upon hundreds of humans. But nothing comes close to Klaus.

He begins to move, slow retreats that leave her panting, firm entries that light up her nerves. Words tumble from her lips, needy pleading (and she's so thankful for the loud music because she's not sure she could resist killing someone who interrupted them right now). Caroline circles her hips in time with the strokes of his cock, her moans muffled against his skin. Klaus pulls back first, tearing the neckline of her shirt aside as he litters frantic kisses across her shoulders. Caroline lets his wrist go with a gasp, leaning her forehead against the wall. Klaus crowds her, hot along the line of her back. "Did you miss this, Caroline?" he grits out. "Me. The things I make you feel. How perfect you feel with my cock inside you, my blood in your mouth. Have you touched yourself, wished it was my hands? Pictured my face, when you struggle to come underneath someone else, because it's the only thing that can get you off?"

She's nodding, trying to catch her breath, enamored with the feel of his skin against hers, too far gone to even attempt a denial.

"Good," he says, viciously pleased. A hand drops between her legs, and he finds her clit, rubbing it frantically. The tiny shake of his fingers is gratifying, lets her know she's not alone in this _need_. "That's good. Come for me, love. All over me. Then we're going to leave, find a bed. You quite liked my mouth, didn't you, love? I'll tease your clit until you scream for me, lick you until you beg me for more. Sink my teeth into your thigh as you're coming."

It's his voice that does it, sends her spinning, knees going weak as she slumps against the wall. Klaus groans, and follows her over, his arm around her waist the only thing that keeps her on her feet.

She swallows hard as she gets her bearings. Klaus' face is buried in her shoulder, and he's tracing shapes on her stomach with one hand, the other smoothing down her side. She moans as he pulls back, clamps her thighs together at the rush of wetness left behind. "I have no idea how we're going to walk out of here," Caroline says, as she pushes away from the wall, surveying their clothing. "Only my skirt and your jeans survived."

Klaus is unconcerned, manages to knot the shoulder of her top together so she's decent, if not fashionable and tugging her skirt in to place. "This time of night, this part of town, my lack of a shirt will raise few eyebrows.

He has a point. "And it's a good thing I was planning on moving on soon, because I'm totally fired."

"Mmm. Particularly after we steal some of the good liquor and break the cellar door."

Caroline's jaw drops, "We can't do that!" she hisses.

Klaus chuckles, wraps an arm around her waist and steers her deeper in to the hallway. "Don't sound so scandalized, love. Surely Caroline Forbes Does Europe Vampire Style has included at least a little crime?"

"My mother was a sheriff," Caroline protests. It's flimsy, since yeah, technically some of the compulsions she's pulled off (the steep discount on her apartment, for example) skirt the edge of legality.

Klaus smirks, and Caroline jumps, when his hand dips particularly low, dipping just under her waistband, as they begin to descend the staircase. "Then allow me to corrupt you, sweetheart."

Caroline snorts, "That's such a line."

"Perhaps. But are you telling me you don't want me to? You're not ready for something permanent, and I'll respect that, go on my merry way in a week or two. But in the meantime allow me to give you a little taste of what permanency might be like."

She's wavering, and he knows it, judging by the sly little smile that brings out his dimples. His tone turns cajoling, "Take a chance, Caroline."

She only resists for a moment before she throws her head back and laughs, knocking her shoulder into his. "Repeating a line? I am so disappointed. You're supposed to be smooth, Klaus."

"You're taking me home with you, aren't you?" Klaus points out innocently, threading his fingers through hers. "I think I've done quite well."

She rolls her eyes, scoffs loudly. Mumbles something about what a cocky jerk he is. But she tugs him in the correct direction, and they liberate as many bottles as they can carry.

Which is a lot. Because vampires.

And if he stays for a month, coaxes her into another in Paris, well that's no big deal. A drop in the bucket, for them, considering they have nothing but time stretching out in front of them.

And she already knows how persuasive he can be.

**In Our Bedroom After The War**

**(Prompt #30 – Riding + #53 – Hurt/Comfort. Title from the Stars song of the same name. SMUT).**

"Hold still," Caroline demands. "Seriously, for the number of times people have tortured you you'd think your pain tolerance would be a little higher."

"My tolerance is fine," Klaus complains, wincing when she digs the tweezers back into his skin. "It's your bedside manner that's deplorable."

She glares and Klaus glares right back, before he drops his eyes down to her shaking hands pointedly. Caroline clenches her teeth together and breathes in deeply through her nose. Because fine, maybe he has a point.

She wasn't going to admit it, especially since he was the one who inspired a vampire to actually turn a mad scientist type with the purpose of inventing a weapon that shot about a bajillion toothpicks at a ridiculous velocity.

Aimed at her, of course. Since they wouldn't actually kill Klaus.

Clearly Klaus would never be a people person.

His freaky hybrid senses had saved her ass, and his body had shielded hers, taking the brunt of the projectiles. Her arms, and one of her legs had been riddled with the bits of wood, but they'd mostly been shallow, and had pushed right out after she'd fed on one of the humans who'd been part of the group of attackers.

After Klaus had destroyed the giant toothpick gun thing. Because she wasn't an idiot.

He wasn't so lucky, and many of the tiny wooden stakes were embedded deep and needed to be removed before he would heal.

It was kind of déjà vu. Caroline would bet that Silas would have been tickled by the situation, were he still around. It's different now, because she can admit she cares about Klaus, that seeing him hurt freaked her out. Hell, they've been sleeping in the same bed for the better part of thirty years (save for the odd time he _really_ pisses her off and gets drunk and passes out in his studio) and she's planning on sticking around. And while he's in no real danger, since it's plain old birch and not white oak, that doesn't mean she likes it when he's uncomfortable and bleeding as she roots around in his flesh.

He grabs her free hand, the one that had been resting on his chest, and squeezes. "'I'm fine," he assures her, ducking his head to catch her eyes. "You're fine. And by tomorrow we'll have discovered if there are any more of their group out there that need to be taken care of. And I _will_ take care of them, I promise."

Caroline nods, takes another deep breath. She trusts him, knows he'd do just about anything to ensure the safety of a few select people, and that she was on that list. Her hand is steadier, when she reaches for the next piece of wood, and Klaus' only reaction is a brief grimace. She works silently for a time, methodically, working her way down his torso.

Absently, she shoves him down, climbs on to his lap to begin working on his stomach. His hands come up to land on her thighs, tracing shapes along the top of them. Caroline ignores him, until she feels him hardening against her ass. "Nope," she clips out, refusing to look up at him. She just knows it will kill her resolve. "Not happening. Not tonight."

"Love," Klaus begins, in that low, coaxing tone that has led to some _very_ questionable decisions on Caroline's part.

Mostly involving sex in public places.

He knew she was into it and totally exploited it, the smug jerk.

"Nope," she repeats. "I am going to finish de-toothpicking you. You are going to feed. And then you are going to have a shower. And I am going to make the bed because these sheets are ruined. And then we are going to sleep, so you're all fresh and ready to get your enemy slaying on tomorrow."

She chances a glance up, only to find him looking insulted. "I do not need _sleep_ to kill people, Caroline."

Caroline snorts because hello, understatement.

"And this is hardly the first set of sheets we've ruined with a little blood, love. It's just usually in a far more enjoyable fashion."

His hands drift higher, edging her skirt up. Caroline can't swat his hands away, right in the middle of digging out a stubborn piece as she is. He brushes over the front of her panties with a thumb, ghosting over her clit, and Caroline's breath falters, "Klaus," she warns. "Do you want me to drive this in deeper? Stop distracting me."

Klaus, of course, doesn't listen, pressing harder, letting out a pleased hum when he finds the lace damp over her entrance. "I think you quite like me distracting you, sweetheart. Tell me, what's gotten you worked up? The fight? Or do you like playing nurse? Because I would be happy to explore that."

Caroline rolls her eyes, but doesn't bother to respond. Until Klaus tears her underwear off. "Hey!" she scolds, but Klaus rolls into a sitting position, and the play of muscles as he moves is a little distracting.

She runs her hand over his abs lightly (totally checking for more wood) and Klaus peels her dress down her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra with it. His tongue flicks over a nipple, far too gently, before he peers up at her innocently. "Should I stop?" he asks. "Since you're so very determined that we get a good night's rest."

Caroline mentally debates getting up, and going with her initial plan, just to get him back for being an unbearable smartass. But he's sneaky, shifting the hand that still rests between her thighs and pressing it against her firmly, tracing over her slit. And she does want him, wants to feel him inside of her, to know that he really will be fine.

Besides, he _was_ 1000 years old. The chances of him changing any of his more annoying personality traits at this point were pretty unlikely.

No reason to torture herself.

She threads her hand through his hair, directing him back to her breast. She sees a quick flash of teeth, a sly grin, but she can't be mad when he sucks her nipple between his lips, just as his fingers find her clit. He doesn't push his luck, there's no teasing. His mouth is the perfect combination of rough suction and the blunt edge of teeth, his fingers pushing inside of her as his thumb works her clit.

He knows her body, and has mastered just the right way to touch her, and she comes quickly, in long shuddering waves, head tipped up to the ceiling as she moans his name. Klaus smiles against her skin, and she's certain he's about to say something he thinks is oh so clever.

Better not to give him the chance.

She pushes on his shoulders, staring him down until he rests flat against the bed. Caroline sits up on her knees and tears at his belt before shoving his pants down. She takes a moment to strip her dress and bra away, before she wraps her hand around his cock.

Klaus hisses out a breath between clenched teeth as she toys with the head, smearing the precum to ease the way when her grip firms as she strokes down. His head digs into the bed, the cords of his neck in sharp relief.

Hey, he's not the only one who's been paying attention.

Caroline smirks at him, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down in one smooth drop. She settles her hips against his, rolling them slightly and bringing her hands up to tug at her nipples. Klaus' eyes grow dark and he moves underneath her, restless and tense. "Something you wanted?" Caroline asks, clenching down around his cock.

His eyelids flutter, jaw tight. "Move," he grits out.

Caroline shrugs her shoulders, widens her eyes, pretends to think about it. "I suppose I could. But I don't want to hurt you so I guess…" she leans back, planting her hand on his thighs and several rough curses fall from Klaus.

The angle is freaking amazing for her too, and she can't help but do what he'd asked, pulling off of him and then falling back quickly, moaning as she does it. He begins to move with her, his feet on the floor giving him leverage. She begins to sweat as she works above him, her hair curling around her temples, straining to reach another peak. "Klaus," she gasps out. "Klaus, please."

He surges up, wraps her legs around his waist, one of his hands on her ass pulling her into the harsh snaps of his hips. She wants to protest, sure that they're just lodging the remaining wood in deeper, but she can't bring herself to care when he grabs her hand, directing it between them. She doesn't need prompting, her fingers flying over her clit until she cries out, spine bowing as she quivers against him.

Klaus' hoarse exhalation of her name as he shudders follows quickly after, and he falls back to the bed, rolling them to the side. They pant together quietly for long moments, his hands in her hair. Caroline finds herself cringing, as her hand tentatively drops to his lower stomach, finding the wounds that still remain. "And that," she tells him, as she gingerly traces his skin, "is why I thought _that_ was a bad idea."

Klaus' chuckle is low, and he rolls back, groping for the tweezers. "It's fine, sweetheart. Worth it, I'd say." He hands them to her, a pleased smile on his face.

Caroline finds herself smiling back as she sits up, telling herself it's time to get back to the business at hand. "I'm going to finish this. Then blood. Shower. Bed," she tells him firmly.

"Counter offer: You finish up. We shower together. I drink from you, you drink from me. Ideally while I'm fucking you in said shower. Then bed."

"To sleep," Caroline declares firmly. Because she might be caving, but she doesn't have to cave on _everything_.

Klaus shrugs, licks his lips, eyes bright with a challenge, "If you can keep your hands off of me, have at it, love."

She's maybe a little meaner when she needs to be when he hands her back the tweezers.


	46. Mini Drabble: Kink List Two

**Notes: **These kink list prompts are kind of like Tribbles, I keep getting more! But they're fun so here's a few more drabbles. All smut once again.

**Making Electricity**

**(Prompt: #5 - Outdoors Sex + #19 Multiple Orgasms/Marathon Sex. Title from "Electric Feel" by MGMT. SMUT).**

She's reeling as she leaves The Boardinghouse – and kind of pissed off. She hadn't been happy to receive Damon's summons in the first place - Caroline had a BioChem midterm tomorrow. She really didn't have time for whatever crisis of the week Damon was bent out of shape about, especially considering he was probably the one who instigated it.

Elena had insisted they go see what had happened, had deployed big worried eyes until she and Bonnie had caved.

Walking in she'd spied Stefan on the couch, brooding expression in place. Enzo had been there, but he'd looked amused. And Damon had a bottle dangling from his fingertips, was pacing the length of the living room.

Damon hadn't hedged, had dropped the bomb immediately.

And his news hadn't improved Caroline's mood.

Klaus was back.

It had been a year since she'd last seen him, a year and a half since The Originals had packed up and left Mystic Falls. Apparently he'd gotten belligerently drunk at The Grill last night, alerting Damon to his presence. Damon had taken it upon himself to skulk around Klaus' mansion, said that it didn't seem like Klaus had _just_ returned.

It was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by woods, Damon pointed out. He could have been there for _weeks_ and they never would have known.

Caroline had forced herself not to react, had listened to Damon drone on about getting to the bottom of things, sussing out threats. Blah, blah, blah. He'd pinned her with a look, his eyes calculating. Caroline had cut him off before he could attempt to issue an order.

"Sorry to interrupt your paranoia fest, but what exactly is the problem? Klaus is back, so what? Are we forgetting the last time he saved your ass, and didn't ask for anything in return? That's the closest thing to a truce you're ever going to get, Damon. Do you _really_ want to piss him off?"

Uneasy looks had been exchanged, and eventually Elena had spoken. "Maybe if you…"

Caroline had stood abruptly, shaking her head. "Nope. No. My little blonde distraction days are _over_. You want to know something send someone else. Leave me out of it."

Stefan had tried next, He at least had the decency to look pained about it. "Caroline…"

She'd thrown up her hands, and turned on her heel, stalking out of the house muttering in disgust. Four vampires in that room, each with exceptional ears, and none of them had seemed to hear Caroline's very firm no.

Storming out had been her only option.

Taking a quick look around and finding the area deserted Caroline had sped away, behind the house, into the woods.

She wasn't going to go and pump Klaus for info at Damon's say so. But that didn't mean she didn't want answers.

He'd made her a promise, and he'd broken it.

Taking a deep breath, she heads in the direction of his house, flashing past the trees. She doesn't get very far, still a good mile away, when she skids to a stop, yelping out a curse at the sight of the large wolf in her path. Her heart races, and she takes a careful step back, eyes locked on it warily. It's huge, sandy colored, and its head tips to the side and studies her with something like interest in its blue eyes as she makes her careful retreat.

Caroline quickly realizes that it's totally not a wolf-wolf.

Tyler's long gone, and according to the app on her phone (old habits die hard) it's nowhere near the full moon. That leaves one option. Crossing her arms and tapping her foot Caroline forces a hard tone. "Hello, Klaus."

He approaches, slow measured steps, like he's worried about startling her.

She will not find that endearing.

He nudges her hand with his head, sits back down at her feet, peering up at her. "Don't try to be cute," she scolds him, feeling a little ridiculous. "I'm pissed. Would a 'Hey, Caroline. I'm back in town,' have killed you? I had things to do today and Damon called me away with a Code Red: the Big Bad is back."

He doesn't react for a moment and Caroline hears the distinct crack of a bone, sees him shudder as his head drops. She registers what he's doing, and turns around with a squeak, slapping her hand over her eyes.

More cracks follow, eventually a low human groan. Caroline waits to speak until she hears him get to his feet, "_Please_ tell me you have pants stashed somewhere."

He laughs, "Afraid not, love. But come now, why so shy? It's nothing you've not seen before."

"I can't yell at you when you're naked!" Caroline sputters.

She jumps, when he speaks again, far closer than he had been. "Perhaps that's my evil plan. I note that you seem to be angry that I hadn't called you to announce my presence. _Not _that I am here at all."

She freezes, thinking back over her words. Ugh, he was right. She _had_ said that. "Maybe I was getting there," she spits out defensively.

Caroline feels his warmth at her back, and he delicately shifts her hair over one shoulder. She hears him inhale, feels his exhalation against her skin. She can't stop the shiver. But he doesn't touch her. His tone is low, taunting and tempting, "Don't let me stop you, sweetheart."

"Why are you here?" she grits out.

"_That's_ a bit of a long story. The witches of New Orleans thought to con me, force me to do their dirty work. I killed them. Had to leave, as their ancestors were getting to be a nuisance. Pity, because I do enjoy the city."

She's replying before she can think that maybe she shouldn't. "Yeah, I know."

"Ah, so you did get my message. I had wondered." He sounds pleased, and if she turned she's sure he'd be smirking smugly.

Caroline doesn't answer, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She forces a cheerful tone, "So what's the plan? I told Damon that you're probably not interested in any more pissing contests. _Please_ tell me I'm not wrong."

"You are not. The Salvatores, the doppelganger. None of them interest me. And I find I'm not entirely certain of what I wish to do next. I've never lacked a goal before. I am at loose ends."

Caroline's eyes widen in shock, the fact that Klaus had just admitted he didn't _know _something flooring her. She whirls, wanting to see his face.

Completely forgetting about the whole naked situation.

Oops.

She makes a valiant effort not to look down. But she fails, her eyes falling, greedily taking in his pale skin, the stretch of it over the lean muscle and bone of his torso. The hair on his lower stomach, darker than the curls on his head. And lower…

Klaus shows not an ounce of shyness, there's not twitch of self-consciousness or an effort to cover himself from her (admittedly kind of leering, sue her) gaze

He looks every bit as good as she remembers and it's been way too long since she'd had sex. And he _is_ leaving. Eventually. At which point Caroline can totally get back to her life, all those plans she still has for while she can still pass for human, when he does.

Given all that would anyone really blame her for throwing herself at him?

Probably, knowing her friends. But Caroline will worry about that later.

Klaus meets her hungrily when she crashes into him, open mouthed and eager, his hands immediately running under her shirt, seeking skin. Caroline finds herself on the ground, with no idea how she'd gotten there, but it quickly stops mattering. Klaus is sucking at her neck, nipping at her pulse point, his fingers racing up her thighs. Caroline's head tips back, digging into the ground as she moans.

She'd always kind of assumed they'd do this again someday. But she didn't think it would be so soon. And she'd kind of been hoping for a bed or at least somewhere where she didn't have to worry about rocks jabbing into her back.

He tears her shirt off, her bra following quickly. He teases her nipple with the point of his tongue just as his hand slips into her panties. Caroline's thighs drop open and she whines as he strokes over her slit, dipping a finger inside of her before he circles her clit. He plants a kiss between her breasts before he rears up, nudging her cheek with his, rasping his question into her ear. "How many times did you come for me last time, Caroline?"

Caroline swallows hard, licking her lips as she tries to think. His teeth catch her earlobe, the tiny lick of pain has her arching up into him. "F-five," she stutters out, staring unseeingly up at the forest canopy. Her hips are rolling, trying to direct the too light brushes of Klaus' fingers on her clit.

He hums against her skin, kissing her throat. "That's where we'll start. Five orgasms in the forest. We'll consider that one of our things, hmm? Then I'll take you to my bed. Followed by my shower."

A protest is on the tip of her tongue, her GPA nagging at her. But Klaus slips two fingers inside of her, his thumb rolling over her clit in smooth glides. His thrusts are rough, but his thumb remains delicate and the contrast leaves her panting, clawing at his back as she sobs out his name. She feels his fangs press lightly into her skin and Caroline hisses out a, "Yes," tipping her head to the side to give him more room.

She comes when he bites, keening sharply as her hips leave the ground. Klaus groans against her throat, tearing away her panties and working his cock inside of her while she's still coming, pushing past her fluttering muscles.

Caroline wraps her legs around him to pull him deeper, eyes rolling back when he starts to move. His teeth retract, and he laps at the wound, a low noise of satisfaction rumbling through him. "That's one," he grunts, picking up speed. One of his hands cradles her neck, the other going underneath her to wrap around her hips, and pull her up into him. "Drink, love," Klaus urges, drawing her mouth to his neck. "You need to heal, because we are _far_ from done."

She feels her fangs drop, and she digs into his skin with a moan, drinking greedily. She shudders when his blood hits her tongue and the taste, something she's dreamed about, has her spiralling into another orgasm. Caroline quakes against him, wrapping her arms around his back, gasping for air.

He hasn't come, his cock hot and hard inside of her, and she clenches down and lets out a protesting whimper when he pulls out of her.

Klaus kisses her as she comes down, frantic and messy, blood on their tongues. "Two," Klaus mumbles against her lips. He moves swiftly down her body, pausing briefly to toy with her stiff nipples. Her skirt has been bunched up around her waist and it's the final victim of Klaus' destructive attack on her clothes, scraps of denim fluttering uselessly to the forest floor.

He was so lending her something to get back to school in. _And_ buying her a new outfit.

Klaus' hands urge her thighs wide, pinning them open. She tenses, waiting for his mouth but he slows, breathes against where she's dripping. Caroline arches her back, uselessly, his grip easily keeping her from grinding up against him.

He kisses her folds, and then his mouth wanders over to her thigh. Caroline whimpers, reaches down to thread her fingers through his hair. "Klaus. Please," she begs, voice hoarse.

He smiles against her skin. "You're so lovely like this, Caroline. Flushed and wet and desperate for my touch. Tell me, have you thought of me? When you touch yourself, alone in your bed?"

Caroline's nodding, mindless, tugging his head towards her.

"Good," he murmurs. And it's impossible to be annoyed with how satisfied he sounds, because he sucks her clit into his mouth, rapid flicks of his tongue making her thighs twitch against his hands. She's so sensitive, her muscles pulled tight and need clawing at her nerves. Klaus doesn't let move and her climax builds up at a rapid pace. Caroline shouts when it hits her, pulling harshly at his hair.

She whines when he licks over her clit again, finding it almost too much. Klaus pulls back, and Caroline stares up at him, blinking and struggling for words. He grins down at her, and Caroline finds herself being turned, his hands arranging her on her hands and knees.

Klaus presses inside of her and begins to rock gently, the slick sounds audible as he moves. Caroline's head drops low, a long moan spilling from her as his hands stroke along her damp skin, his lips pressing hot kisses to her spine. The sensations are slower to overcome her this time, sneaking up, slow and achingly sweet. He starts to speak, and she distantly notes the slight shake, the tenseness in his frame along her spine. "You feel so good, love. Perfect around my cock. Come for me. Let me feel it."

He reaches under her, and it only takes a few touches of his finger, gentle swipes over her swollen clit, to have her gasping out his name, her shaking arms no longer able to hold her weight.

Klaus catches her, sitting up and wrapping an arm around her waist, letting her sprawl boneless across his lap. He circles his hips, still thick inside of her, one hand crawling up her belly to her breast. He tugs at her nipple, kisses her shoulder. "One more, love. Then you can have a little rest."

"This is ridiculous," Caroline breathes out, her head rolling back against his shoulder. One of her hands latches on to his forearm, nails digging in. She feels hazy, needs something to ground herself.

Klaus chuckles, the low sound vibrating through her. "Nonsense. You've done it before."

"In like six hours," Caroline protests weakly. But her hips are rolling against him, one of her hands joining his at her breast, chasing that final promised peak.

Klaus picks up speed, his own breaths coming faster. "You want it, Caroline," he mutters darkly. "You need it." Klaus lifts his wrist, letting it linger in front of her mouth. "Drink."

Caroline shakes her head, turning her head enough to get at his throat. She bites, letting out an ecstatic noise when his blood spills. It's messy, dripping onto his skin, rubbing into hers, the metallic scent intoxicating.

"Fuck," he groans. "Caroline…" The motions of his hips still as he shudders at her back, arms locking around her.

His hand drops to her clit, rubbing frantically, coaxing her into another climax. Her cry is sharp, her eyes squeezing shut. Caroline pants, her skin tingling, absently noting the soothing strokes of his hands along her sides.

His lips brush her shoulder, "Alright love?"

"Exhausted," she mumbles. "Did not know that was possible."

Klaus stands suddenly, lifting her easily and Caroline lets out a squeak. He sets her on her feet, steadying her as she finds her balance. His hands sift through her hair, picking out leaves. "Many things are possible, love. Are you coming home with me?"

Caroline narrows her eyes, "Are you going to tell me what really happened in New Orleans?"

Klaus smirks, his hands lingering on her skin. "If you'd like," he offers. "Later. After I've made good on a few more promises."

"Then yes," Caroline answers. She shakes her hair out, bends to quickly gather her clothes (just in case someone else came across them – that could get awkward) shoving them into her discarded purse.

The shakiness in her limbs is easing, perks of being a vampire. Klaus is still looking at her like he wants to devour her and she _had_ always imagined them in a bed.

Why not find out just how good her imagination had been?

**Finest Hour**

**(Prompt: #47 – Shaving Kink + AH-AU. Title from "Picture This" by Blondie. SMUT).**

So watching Klaus shave? Not a thing Caroline had ever thought to consider a turn on. Such a routine little act. Utilitarian and necessary (because a little stubble was fine. _Good_ even. That beard thing Klaus had tried last winter was not).

But maybe she should have.

She'd moved in with Klaus over the weekend, had taken the week off work to unpack, organize, claim a little space in his house.

Okay fine. It would probably end up being _a lot_ of space. But they were engaged. That meant she was totally entitled.

Klaus has an interview for a promotion he really wants this morning, and Caroline had woken up when he'd rolled out of bed. She's fighting to stay awake, wants to wish him good luck, even though the bed is really warm and tempting and drifting back to sleep sounds amazing.

She's almost lost the struggle when the door to the bathroom creaks open, nudging her back into awareness. Caroline rolls over and stretches. Puffs of steam obscure Klaus, and when they dissipate he's paying her no mind, leaning into the mirror and lathering on shaving cream.

She takes a second to enjoy the view. Klaus' bare torso, dotted with beads of water, the towel sitting low on his hips – all worthy of a little visual appreciation.

It kind of made her wish he didn't have somewhere pressing to be, a trickle of heat thrumming through her. She could go for some hands on appreciating right about now.

Caroline realizes she's never seen him do this. Klaus doesn't shave every day and pre cohabitation they'd usually stayed at her place (because Caroline always felt super guilty about leaving her cat, Beau, to fend for himself). The bathroom at her apartment had been tiny, _not_ built for two people. They'd usually rushed through their morning routines separately, sharing coffee and the newspaper before dashing out the door.

But she could get used to this.

Caroline's always been a big fan of Klaus' hands, beginning back at school when he hung out at the coffee shop she waited tables at, camping out and sketching for hours. He'd started leaving her drawings, of her, other customers, the view of the street from the window. She still had most of them. They started talking, he asked her out. And now here they were, five years later, regularly arguing over wedding decisions.

His hands have touched every inch of her body. Watching him shave, is a reminder of that. Of what they can _do_ to her. Klaus is intent and careful, his long fingers wrapped delicately around his razor. He scraped away the cream slowly, revealing smooth skin. She knew the strength of his hands, the callouses on his fingers, his ability to tease and torture her with careful strokes and light pinches until she was a mess of need and sensation.

Tearing her eyes away she reaches over to the nightstand, fumbling for her phone. Biting her lip as she contemplates the time, Caroline decides that she has enough. Flipping the covers off of her she slides out of bed, discarding her sleep shorts and tank as she walks towards the bathroom.

She slips in behind Klaus, kissing his shoulder and running her hands down his chest. He stiffens slightly, when she presses her breasts into his back, more when she slips her fingers underneath the edge of his towel. She watches his eyes close briefly, the clear regret in his expression as he meets her eyes in the mirror. "Love, believe me when I say I _hate_ to say this but I don't have time."

Caroline grins, leans up to plant a kiss below his ear on the side he's already done, dragging her lips across his skin. A quick pull of her fingers has the towel dropping to their feet. "Sure we do. You're just going to have to multitask."

She strokes his cock with light fingertips, feeling it twitch into awareness. "Love," Klaus grumbles, but he makes no move to push her hand away.

"Shh. Let me take care of you," Caroline murmurs, scratching lightly over his abs with her free hand. His muscles flex underneath her touch, his length thickening under her teasing strokes. She wraps her hand around his cock before he can attempt another protest, and Klaus braces a hand on the counter, groaning as she tightens her grip. She rests her forehead against his shoulder, her fist pulling at him lazily as his breaths grow heavy. He's swaying with her movements, and Caroline nips at his skin. "Shave, Klaus. You don't want to be late."

A ragged exhale and he straightens, bringing the razor back up to his chin. She keeps her movements easy, so she doesn't jostle him. She's not sure he'd thank her, the slow build leaving him tense. "I watched you," she confesses quietly. "When you opened the door. I don't know why it's so hot, but I _needed_ to touch you."

He grunts when she runs her thumb over the head of his cock, rubbing along the underside on her next down stroke. His movements with the razor hasten, and Caroline watches avidly as he finishes up. The razor clatters into the sink and Caroline pulls her hand away, stepping back. Klaus makes a noise of protest. "Turn around," she urges him, dropping to her knees.

He does so quickly, leaning back against the sink, jaw locked. There's a faint flush high on his cheeks and Caroline flashes him a grin as she runs her hands up his taut thighs, reaching under to toy with his balls. Klaus' legs widen, his head falling back as he moans. His hands lock onto the counter, knuckles turning white. She kisses the tip of his cock, flicks her tongue out to taste the bead of precum that rests there.

"Caroline," he grits out, hoarse and needy.

She wraps her lips around him in response, sucking lightly for a moment before pulling back to run her tongue along him. She takes her time, teasing him, until he looks down at her, eyes hazy and dark. His lips are wet, parted as he draws in air. She draws his cock back into her mouth, taking him deeper, humming as she pulls back. Klaus curses, and Caroline does it again, tightening her grip on what she can't fit into her mouth.

She picks up speed, sucking harder, applying the slightest touch of teeth where she knows he likes it. Klaus begins to shudder, and the next time he says her name there's a note of warning in it. Caroline pulls back, moving her hand over the slick skin of his cock rapidly, until he groans harshly and spills across her breasts.

He'd confessed that he liked it, once upon a time. And it wasn't always practical, but Caroline figured the shower was right there so why not?

She darts her tongue out, licking up the fluid that still clings to him and the noise he makes is highly satisfying, leaves her thighs clenching together. Caroline stands when she's done, leans into kiss him lightly. She buries her nose in his throat for a second, takes a minute to enjoy the scent of his skin, before she pulls back, patting his stomach. "Go. Get dressed. You don't want to be late, right?

He looks a little dazed, and it's kind of endearing. Klaus clears his throat, "Don't you need…"

"To get off?" Caroline continues bluntly. She switches their position, leaning against the counter, parting her thighs. Klaus' eyes track down, and Caroline lets her hand wander down her stomach. "I will. When you're gone. You can make it up to me later."

He reaches for her, grazes her thigh but Caroline stops him, shaking her head as she brings her fingers to her clit. She sighs as she traces a lazy circle, "Klaus. Seriously. As much as I want you to you _really_ don't have time."

He's watching her touch herself longingly, hands balled into fists. "This is incredibly unfair, Caroline. How am I supposed to concentrate?"

Caroline laughs, and it comes out strained as she slips two fingers inside of herself, head tipping back against the mirror as she eases them in deeper. She begins to move them, fighting to answer Klaus' question. Concentration wasn't only his problem. "Tell you what," she offers. "Text me when your interview's done and I'll make it worth your while."

Klaus still looks torn, but Caroline brings her leg up, nudging his knee with her toes, "Go. I mean it. Or no dirty pictures for you."

He leaves, muttering under his breath. Vague threats about making her pay that Caroline really hopes he follows through on.

His headboard was much more conducive to bondage than hers was.

He texts her two hours later to tell her that the interview went very well. And isn't it time for a little quid pro quo?

Caroline hadn't bothered to get dressed after she'd showered. And she doesn't get much unpacking done, busy taunting Klaus with snaps of her in various compromising positions around the house.

She doesn't think he really minds.

And hey, she does have all week.

**Start Living Dangerously**

**(****#55 - Water/Rain/Ocean + #59 t Wall!Sex or other sex standing up + AH-AU with Klaus &amp; Caroline having sex in the ocean. When they're ready to head back to land, Caroline realizes her bikini bottom has floated away. "Cake By The Ocean" by DNCE. SMUT).**

"Stop staring at me," Caroline demands, feeling Klaus' eyes on her.

Again.

For the fifty-sixth billionth time.

Kol had conveniently neglected to mention that his older brother was already at his family's beach house when he'd invited Caroline and a couple of their other friends out for the long weekend. It wouldn't have been a problem, except for the fact that she was kind of acting as a fifth wheel and so she'd gotten stuck with Klaus' company more often than not.

Like right now.

All of her friends were _occupied_ (and Caroline wished brain bleach was a thing so she could scrub the noises she'd heard from her memory) so she'd quickly thrown on a bikini, grabbed her sunblock and headed _far_ away from the house.

She'd gone down to the ocean, tied her floating chair off to the dock, and had been content to spend an afternoon lazing in the sun. But, like a bad penny, Klaus had shown up quickly and followed her example. Caroline had lifted her sunglasses up long enough to glare at him but had settled back down without saying anything. _Technically_ she was a guest and it was his house. Telling him to beat it would have been rude.

He's been quiet for a while and Caroline had almost relaxed. Until she felt him looking at her.

"A question, sweetheart," Klaus asks. "Exactly how long are you planning on loathing me for?

"How long are you planning on living for?" Caroline shoots back sweetly.

He makes a low noise of amusement. "I did apologize, you know. For the circumstances of our first meeting."

"You mean when you used me to get your clingy girlfriend to break up with you? And she threw a drink at me? And embarrassed me in front of your entire family? And because of that your sister only refers to me as 'that home-wrecking tart?'"

He'd approached her, looking unfairly delicious in a perfectly tailored tux, muttered something about playing along before his hands had delved into her hair and he'd kissed her.

_Really_ kissed her.

It had been movie worthy. Caroline had practically been able to hear music swelling in the background as she'd clung to his lapels and tried to keep up with the hot strokes of his tongue.

And then she'd been wrenched away, only to be soaked with a glass of champagne and screeched at by a diminutive redhead. Ordinarily Caroline would have squished her like a bug but she'd been disoriented, her skin tingling and his taste in her mouth.

Kol had eventually swept her away, hustling her to a back hallway and away from all the gaping people. He'd barely held his laughter in, telling her that she was supposed to be his fake date, and that making out with his brother really wasn't going to endear her to her fake future in laws.

"Yes, those circumstances," Klaus replies blandly. "I honestly thought that Kol had paid you. I'm still shocked that he's managed to make a female friend who's not a complete airhead."

"Because that makes it _so_ much better?" Caroline asks in disbelief.

Klaus sighs, and pushes off from the dock, his chair bumping in to hers. "I am sincerely sorry, Caroline. I was desperate. I'd tried breaking up with Aurora half a dozen times but she kept showing up at my apartment. Even after I changed the locks. I had to have security ban her from the building I work at. I couldn't go to any of my favorite places because she just kept popping up. I just sort of acted."

He appears so earnest, looking at her intently, and Caroline feels herself wavering. She'd dealt with a stage five clinger or two herself, _and_ done a thing or two she wasn't proud of to shake them off. Blowing out a breath she nods grudgingly, "Fine. Fine! I will try to let it go. But don't piss me off again."

A tiny smirk pulls at the corner of Klaus' mouth, dimple carving into his cheek. "I solemnly swear," he tells her, resting a hand over his heart. "Now, tell me about this girl my brother's dating. Do you like her?"

Ugh, Caroline totally didn't. She debates telling the truth, pulling out some bland lie about not knowing the other woman well. But Klaus' eyes are knowing, and she senses he wouldn't buy it.

Oh well. It's not like Kol's relationships ever lasted very long anyway.

* * *

They talk for hours. And she kind of hates to admit it but Klaus really isn't that bad. Smart, observant. Dryly funny. A little arrogant, and kind of a snob, but Caroline wasn't about to claim to be perfect.

The sun's dipped low, the temp dropping slightly. Caroline's stomach growls and Klaus laughs. "Sounds like a hint. My parents are awful, but they'd be ashamed if I let a guest starve. Whatever would other people think?"

"It must be close to dinner time. Fingers crossed someone emerged from a bedroom long enough to get it going." Caroline reaches out to grasp the rope, intending to pull herself to the dock. But it's not where she'd expected it to be and she leans a touch too far, tipping her chair and going into the water with a short shriek.

She stays under for a moment, mentally berating herself for her complete and total lack of smoothness. Caroline pushes her hair away from her face when she surfaces, notes Klaus' lips are tightly pressed together, his shoulders shaking as he tries to keep his laughter in.

Well, that just won't do.

She moves quickly, grabbing the edge of his chair and tipping it over. Let's out a laugh of her own at the splash he makes. Klaus' head breaks the water quickly and he shakes his head in feigned regret, "You shouldn't have done that, love."

Right before his arm sweeps out, and a wave of water hits her in the face.

She doesn't even think about it before she launches herself at him. Caroline clutches his shoulders, lifts herself up to try and push him down. Klaus resists, trying to squirm away but Caroline locks her legs around his torso. She throws herself to the side, manages to take him down with her, and they grapple underwater, each trying to come out on top.

Caroline begins to think that this is a very bad idea.

She's wearing like a foot of fabric, tops. He's naked from the waist up. There's a lot of his skin sliding against a lot of hers and she feels herself start to react, pulse picking up due to more than just exertion. His hands span her thighs, sliding up, trying to peel her off of him and Caroline squeezes him tighter, refusing to be moved. She chokes out a moan when their bodies align, his cock grinding up against her. The two thin pieces of fabric between them do little to hide the fact that he's every bit as affected as she is. She does it again, purposefully, slicking her hand up his back and into his hair.

Klaus's body jolts at the pressure, a groan rumbling through him, and he kicks off the ocean floor, bringing them above the water line. Caroline pants, trying to catch her breath. She knows her eyes are wide, and Klaus is no better. He brings his hand around her neck, draws her closer. The pressure is light, she could easily pull away. He looks up at her questioningly, thumb rubbing circles against her skin.

She kisses him first this time, slanting her mouth over his and burying a hand in his wet curls, tipping his head back as licks inside his mouth. Klaus pulls her closer, so there's not a hint of space between their wet torsos, crushing her breasts to his chest. Her hips move without her permission, rocking against him seeking more friction.

Klaus hand reaches down, slips into her bikini bottom, palming her ass and pulling her harder against him.

Caroline's running out of air, she rips her mouth from hers and tips her head back, starring up and trying to get her breathing under control. Klaus' mouth stays on her skin, hot on her throat and then lower. He hitches her up and shoves one of the triangles that covers her breast to the side when it gets in his way, mouth wrapping around her nipple. Caroline moans, arches backwards and Klaus sucks harder, nibbling delicately with his teeth.

"Off," he mutters, tugging at the strings.

Caroline feels it loosen, is immediately distracted as he switches sides. "Klaus," she pants, clawing at his shoulders for support.

He hums against her nipple and spins them, boosting her up on to the dock in one swift motion. He attacks the ties at her hips, making swift work of her bikini bottom. He urges her thighs apart as his mouth dips, running along her folds before he parts her with his fingertips. Caroline squirms under his heated gaze. He looks up at her as his tongue meets her clit, circling it maddeningly slowly. She shudders, leaning back and holding her weight up with her palms.

Klaus grins, a bright flash of teeth in under the darkening sky, and then he's no longer teasing, his lips worrying her clit as his fingers press inside of her, hooking and searching until he finds the spot that rips a moan from her.

She falls back when her arms get weak, the cold wet planks at her back barely noticeable. He hooks her leg over his shoulder and the strokes of his tongue roughen with the quickening pace of his fingers. Caroline's toes curl, her thighs trembling, her muscles locking in anticipation. He holds her there on the edge until she can't take it anymore, her hands scratching uselessly at the wood. She cries his name, pleading and frustrated and he gives her the final push she'd needed, flicking over her clit in rapid strokes and she shouts his name once more as she shakes through her climax.

Relaxing is gradual, the tension in her limbs slow to dissipate. Klaus kisses down her thigh, nips at the inside of her knee. Caroline jolts, heaving herself up on her elbows to glare down at him. He smirks back, no trace of repentance in his features. He glances away from her, and his brows furrow, and then she hears a few faint splashes. "Shit," Klaus mutters, pushing himself back from the dock, glancing around him frantically.

Caroline pushes herself up, crossing an arm over her breasts. "What?" she asks, beginning to worry. He'd seemed totally onboard with what they'd been doing, enthusiastic even, so she can't imagine what's the matter.

He runs a hand through his hair, face twisting in chagrin, "I think I lost your bikini, love."

"What?" she squeaks, leaning over the edge, scanning the water lapping at the dock. "How?"

"I wasn't exactly thinking straight," Klaus defends weakly. "I meant to set it on the dock but I think I might have flung it in the water? Heat of the moment, gorgeous fascinating girl all spread out before me. You know."

She's slightly mollified by the compliment. "Everyone will know, Klaus. If I go strolling up wrapped in nothing but a towel."

He shakes his head scornfully, "And? I've been horrifically obvious about the fact that I fancy you, Caroline. Kol's been taking bets."

"He what?" she repeats shrilly. When she got her hands on him…

Klaus sets his hands on her knees, drawing her attention back to him. "I'll gladly help you maim him later, love. Perhaps after we go into town for dinner?"

His eyes are bright, hopeful. Caroline finds she really wants to say yes. Wants to talk to him some more. And then maybe continue exploring their chemistry in a more comfortable location.

Everyone else was getting laid. She totally deserved it.

"I pick the place," she tells him. "I do not share dessert. And you totally owe me a new bikini. Those things are expensive."

**A Touch of You**

**(Prompt: #28 – Fuck or Die/Sex Pollen + #24 Bondage/restraints. Title from "Taste" by Lorna Vallings. SMUT).**

The insistent knocking at her door in the middle of the night? Not welcome. Throwing it open, Caroline's ready to snarl insults and/or eat whoever dared interrupt her beauty sleep. She's taken aback when she finds Kol Mikaelson grinning on the other side. Although frankly he was even less welcome than the knocking.

She couldn't eat him. And she'd never interacted with Kol much – he'd been resurrected a couple of years after Klaus had left Mystic Falls – but she knew he was volatile. He might be amused if she'd thrown out something derogatory or he might have just ripped out a vital organ for funsies. Her occasional meet ups with Klaus (if you used a loose definition of 'occasional' since they happened almost annually at this point) were always (thankfully!) sans the other Mikaelsons. Caroline's not certain why Kol is here right now.

"Can I help you?" she asks warily.

His grin widens, and his eyes wander down her body appreciatively. Caroline really regrets not grabbing a robe. He heaves a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Oh, I'm quite certain that you could. But it's Nik that'll be needing your _help_."

Caroline stiffens, alarm bells ringing. She'd seen Klaus just over a week ago and he'd been perfectly fine. She always made herself wait awhile before shooting him an email or a text after one of their whirlwind tours of a city slash sex marathons.

All the better to convince herself that the thing with Klaus was casual. That she didn't actually have some big messy _feelings_ lingering somewhere.

Her racing heart, the adrenaline that floods her upon hearing that something might be seriously _wrong _with him, makes it pretty clear that she's a big fat liar. But now's not the time to dwell on that. "What happened?" she asks urgently, stepping out into the hallway. "Where is he?"

Kol doesn't seem to be in a hurry, if anything his eyes light up with something like glee. "He killed the wrong witch. Her sister weaved a _very_ interesting spell and we're reasonably certain that you're the only one that can break it. Now, Bekah got a little impatient while we were torturing her and she died. Rather unfortunate, and set us back. I think I found the spell she used in one of her grimoires. If my Lombardic is accurate, and I sifted through the drivel correctly, 'the one most often in his thoughts is the only relief.' You're the only person who can break the spell and relive the miserable agony Nik's living with at the moment."

Caroline's mouth drops open and she turns to hurry into her apartment, making a beeline for the closet where she keeps her suitcase. "Miserable agony?'" she repeats, wincing at her own shrillness. "And you didn't think to open with that? How far away is he? What does he need? Some blood?"

Kol's followed her in, is peering around her place with great interest. He laughs loudly when she finishes, throwing himself on to her couch, propping his feet up on her coffee table. "'Fraid it's not _quite_ that simple, darling."

Caroline glares at him, hands on her hips, 100% done with his hedging _and_ his amusement. "Kol. Spit it out. How am I supposed to break the spell?"

He makes a show of attempting to sober, leaning back and lacing his hands together behind his head, "Nothing you've not done before, don't you worry your pretty little head."

Ugh, annoyingly cryptic, of course. "What does that even _mean_?" she presses.

"Just that Nik takes these mysterious little trips occasionally. They have an _interesting_ effect on his mood. He's downright bearable, for a good week before he leaves and two or three once he returns. That trickles away. He gets moody for a bit, glares at his phone like it's done something offensive. A brief bust of a good mood again, and then he's mostly back to normal. Until just before he takes another trip."

Caroline fights not to fidget under Kol's knowing gaze. "Still doesn't tell me what I need to _do_."

Kol leans forward, his giddiness almost palpable. "It's sex magic, sweet Caroline. Nik's hexed. Burning need, no outlet. We tried to throw a human at him but obviously that didn't end well. An old vampire friend survived, barely, but didn't help one jot. That's why I was sent to find you. Elijah and Bekah have their hands full, trying to keep Nik contained. We had plenty of practice, back when he killed The Five but it's a mite more difficult now."

Caroline can feel that her mouth has fallen open, and that it's moving, but no words are forming. She knows she probably looks like an idiot but it's kind of a lot to process. "I'm sorry, but what? Are you saying I have to have sex with Klaus to break a spell? Like, that's an actual thing that a witch did?"

Any attempt at seriousness falls away as Kol begins to laugh again. "Isn't it wonderful? You've got to give the woman points for creativity, bless her poor dead soul. Now, Nik doesn't know I've been sent to collect you, he was a bit miffed that we all seemed to know about your little dalliances. Thinks he's ever so much cleverer than the rest of us, you know. Bekah told me to snap your neck and stuff you in a trunk but I thought I'd try to do things all civilized-like."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Gee, thanks."

"Welcome," Kol returns easily. "Now, time's a ticking. Shouldn't you get packing? You'll likely not need much for clothing, but women are so odd about that sort of thing."

She only hesitates for a second before she nods, and hurries into her room. It's a weird situation and totally breaks Caroline's own rules about spacing her visits with Klaus apart (but, once upon a time, she'd limited herself to once every five years and hadn't that dwindled quickly?) but he needs her help.

She's positive he'd do the same for her.

* * *

Caroline's nervous as she trails behind Kol. He'd mostly left her alone on the plane, content to pester the flight attendants. He'd been laying the innuendo on thick ever since they'd landed and she'd done her best to tune him out.

And now he's leading her to Klaus' bedroom. She only half listens to him as he casually assures her that they've had it sound proofed so she didn't need to worry about keeping it down, that Elijah had kindly tossed Klaus in the shower about an hour ago so he'd be 'fresh as a daisy for you, darling' and that the room was well stocked with blood so she and Klaus should be fine for at least a week.

Caroline clenches her teeth together to refrain from blurting out a question about timelines here. Surely this thing couldn't last _that_ long? She'd once spent nearly two days in bed with Klaus, a storm making venturing outside their hotel inadvisable. Contemplating a week is daunting. And maybe a _teeny_ bit intriguing.

Kol stops in front of a door, barging into a room before Caroline can tell him to give her a minute (to be able to mentally prepare a little would be nice!) and strolling in. He throws her a curious look over his shoulder when she doesn't follow him, "Now, now. Don't be nervous. Nik had been hoarding all sorts of nifty little trinkets. He won't bite. _Can't_ bite."

Furrowing her eyebrows at that odd statement Caroline tentatively steps into the room. And almost swallows her tongue when she sees what Kol had meant.

Klaus is stretched out on the bed, clearly naked and covered by a sheet, his arms splayed out over his head. His wrists are wrapped in heavy metal cuffs, connected by a metal bar. The whole set up's a steely grey color, and Caroline can just make out symbols scratched into the metal's surface. His skin is flushed, slightly damp and his eyes are closed. His breathing appears labored and the thin sheet is doing little to hide his erection.

Caroline tries _not_ to look directly at it, but its _right there_.

Kol's voice drops conspiratorially, "An invention of our dear fathers, apparently. I do wish I could ask him to point me in the direction of the witch who spelled those. He can't break out of them and the bar won't move much from where it's rested." Caroline knows the whisper is just Kol being a troll since Klaus and Elijah (calmly sitting at the bedside, tapping away at a tablet in his typically immaculate suit – which was almost the weirdest part of the whole tableau) can hear him perfectly well.

Klaus' eyes snap open and lock on her, his arms straining against his bonds, the muscles in sharp relief. He wets his lips, and rasps out her name. There's need there, heavy and apparent, but also a note of apology, a tinge of shame. Caroline shakes her head but Elijah rises before she can say anything, drawing her attention.

Another Original she's not entirely sure how to deal with. Elena had liked him but Elena was also Damon's number one fan so her taste in people was questionable.

"Caroline Forbes," he says formally, holding his hand out. "I regret we meet again under these circumstances."

She lets out a nervous laugh, and shakes his hand. "Yeah. They're a little… different."

Elijah's eyes drift upwards, his expression reading exasperation, "I'm afraid there's little end to the unfortunate scenarios my younger siblings manage to find themselves enmeshed in." His gaze shifts to Kol, turning hard and measuring, "I assume Kol behaved himself?"

Caroline considers her answer, probably for a beat too long if the angry growl-y noise Klaus lets out is anything to go by. "He was fine!" she rushes, sneaking another peek in Klaus' direction. "Really. I came totally voluntarily," she assures him. Because a couple of perv-y remarks wasn't worth Kol getting a dagger in his heart. She did owe him one for not following Rebekah's advice. As nervous as Caroline is it would have been way more awkward to have been dumped into this situation without preparation. Klaus relaxes just the tiniest bit, head resting back on the pillows.

"I am glad to hear it," Elijah says. "And now Kol and I will take our leave. If you need anything just open the door. We'll send a maid along."

Caroline stutters out a thanks, her hands wringing together anxiously as they leave, Kol shooting her one last leer for good measure, before the door snaps shut. She takes a deep breath and approaches the bed. "Hi," she manages. She fidgets for a moment before she perches on the side of it, keeping her eyes trained on Klaus' face. "How are you?" she asks, trying not to visibly cringe at what an idiotic thing that was to say.

Klaus' laugh is strained and rusty sounding, "I've been better, love."

"I'll bet." Caroline bites her lip and marshals her courage. She had questions, obviously. But she hadn't been willing to as Kol for answers, hadn't trusted him to give her solid, factual, ones either. "Tell me what you need, Klaus."

"Did Kol not…"

Caroline cuts him off with a wave of her hand, "Something about a witch and sex magic and needing a specific, me-shaped, partner for the spell to be broken."

Klaus swallows hard. "That is the gist of it. I need to come. I need you to make me come."

"Because you just got back from seeing me?" Caroline asks, unsure of why she needs to know the answer. "That's why I was on your mind?"

Klaus smirks and it seems like a taunt. "We both know that the timing has nothing to do with it. That I think of you often. But, if that's what you'd like to believe, to maintain your little bubble of denial, I won't stop you."

"Should you really be so condescending right now?" Caroline asks incredulously, letting her eyes linger on his straining form.

Klaus says nothing, merely shifts his shoulders in what she imagines is supposed to be a shrug. The clank of metal, his cuffs scraping against the bed frame, reminds Caroline to get back on topic. He might be a dick, but she'd always known that. And she was long since passed a point where she really wanted him to suffer.

She clears her throat, asks the next question that had been on her list, "Come how?"

"I don't think it matters. In your hand, or your mouth, with my cock buried inside of you. All will do the trick."

"How long?"

"That I'm not entirely certain of. There was no indication that she'd never actually performed this particular bit of magic."

"Lucky you being the guinea pig," Caroline mutters, pushing herself to her feet. She shrugs off her jacket and wriggles out of her leggings and socks. Klaus' intake of air is sharp and audible and she climbs on to the bed.

"Take the rest of it off," he demands, eyes hot on her still clothed breasts.

Caroline lifts an eyebrow as she knee walks closer, reaching out to lightly scrape her nail over his stomach, just above where the sheet rests. He arches up into the touch, eyes drifting closed. "You're awfully bossy for a guy who's tied up," Caroline muses teasingly.

"Caroline," he grits out, and she can hear the thread of pain he's trying to hide.

She softens, throws her tank top aside before she tugs the sheet down, baring him fully. "I know," she says gently, running a fingertip up his cock. It looks painful, flushed a deep red and leaking profusely and Caroline remembers that he's been like this for close to fourteen hours. His jaw clenches tight and he hisses when she wraps her hand around him. She strokes him firmly, adds her other hand immediately, letting them work in tandem. Caroline shifts so she can kneel between his legs. Klaus' moan is one part relief, one part arousal, and his hips roll with her motions, the lean muscles in his abs tensing. She looks up curiously, "Is this okay?"

He nods frantically, spots of gold bleeding into the blue of his eyes, "It's good," he breathes, "I'm going to… fuck." Klaus comes, all over her hands, a string of guttural curse words falling from his lips. He breathes raggedly but he doesn't soften.

Caroline's eyes widen, taking _that_ in, and she wipes her hands on the sheets. "Kol said that you couldn't come before. But you just did. So… is that a good sign?"

"Yes," Klaus pants out.

"Oh. Good."

Klaus chuckles, "In case I forget to say it later, thank you, Caroline."

"Welcome. Let's not pretend that I'm not going to be getting something here. Just, you know, later." She's a little aroused, the sight of Klaus bound and debauched looking had sent the first stirrings through her (_maybe_ a fantasy she drew on from time to time). Touching him, feeling him tremble under her hands had pushed her a little further. But she definitely still needs to catch up if she wants him inside of her.

Caroline gathers her hair over one shoulder and bends, settling her hands on Klaus' hips. He tenses, a shudder wracking his body. She lets his cock brush her lips, parting them and sucking lightly, swirling her tongue around the head before taking him in deeper. Klaus is louder than he usually is, but she chalks that up to his frayed control. She flicks her eyes up to watch Klaus' face as she works him over, sucking hard and humming around his length. It's not the first time she's done this, not by a long shot, and she kind of misses his hands in her hair, the little tug of his tightening fingers when she hits someplace especially sensitive.

His eyes are heavy lidded, and he's watching her right back, chest heaving and fingers locked tight around the bar that connects his wrists. Caroline pulls back, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She shoots Klaus a smirk as she removes her bra, before she lowers her mouth back to him. She blows against him, and his thighs twitch when the cool air hits his wet cock before sucking him back into her mouth. She takes him as deep as she can, swallowing around him and stroking what remains firmly. Klaus grunts, hoarse and strained, "Caroline, I'm…"

He was always good about the warnings.

She doesn't pull back, quickens her pace. Klaus is soon groaning out her name, neck arched and the cords of his throat pulled tight. She swallows rapidly, and pulls off his length with an audible pop. Caroline crawls up his body and nips at his collarbone, kissing just under his stubbled jaw before brushing her lips over his. He's slow to kiss her back, and she takes that as a compliment. He moans a little when her tongue dips into his mouth, sucking on it eagerly.

She pulls back and sits up, notes that his cock is _still_ solid and ready where it's pressed against her ass.

Yeah, this was definitely going to take a while.

"Any better?" she asks him, setting her hands on his chest and letting them wander. She grazes his nipple with her nail as she rocks against his stomach lightly, teasing herself a little bit. Watching him come apart under her mouth has always kind of turned her on and the lace is of her panties is soaked. The slide of it between their bodies is nice and Klaus kindly shifts up, moving with her and making it even better.

"A little," he allows, eyes locked on her swaying breasts. "The ache is not quite so sharp, though that could just be because I know it _can_ be relieved."

Caroline absorbs that, wonders if it means he'd thought she wouldn't come.

They'll definitely have to address that, once he's back to normal.

But in the meantime her body's throbbing, needing more than just the light friction she's getting against her clit. Caroline shifts back, pushing her panties aside and aligning the tip of him with her entrance. She sinks down, taking him easily, throwing her head back and releasing a moan of her own when he's buried inside of her. She hasn't had time to forget just how good he feels, the delicious stretch of her muscles around him. Not that she ever really does.

Klaus' satisfied noise echoes hers, but his voice stills her before she can start to move. "Take them off?" he repeats, glancing down at her panties. "You'll need to touch your clit, make yourself come. I want to watch."

It's phrased like a question this time so Caroline doesn't debate before she does what he's asked, ripping them away and tossing them aside. She plants a hand on his abs for leverage, sliding up off of his cock slowly before dropping back down, swiveling her hips as she does. "This won't take long," Klaus warns her, tone tight and strained.

Caroline nods, lets her free hand roll her nipple for a minute before she lets it drop and rub at her clit. "Don't care," she murmurs. She won't need much, sweat gathering at the base of her spine as her body tenses. Her thighs are just beginning to shake, the burn as she moves a welcome distraction. "It's not like I don't already know you can whip out ridiculous stamina when you want to. Or when you just want to torture me."

Klaus smirks, and begins to move with her, rolling his hips up, perfectly timed with her down strokes. Caroline speeds up and soon it's rough and messy, the clash of their hips frantic and needy. Klaus stiffens as he comes again and her fingers fly over her clit as her climax sneaks up on her. Caroline cries out his name as she collapses onto his chest.

She drops idle kisses on his skin, darting out her tongue to taste occasionally. Caroline gives herself a minute to enjoy his skin against hers (once again missing his hands. Klaus didn't _seem_ like a snuggler but he was actually really good at it) before she heaves herself up. Notes that he's still hard, even though she can feel that he's come, the slickness spilling down her thighs a dead giveaway. Caroline shakes her head, leans up to kiss him again. He hums into her mouth, strives to deepen it immediately. Caroline pulls back, begins a slow grind against him, arching her back to make the most of the angle. "I thought Kol was exaggerating about needing a week but maybe he wasn't."

Klaus doesn't say anything, but he looks vaguely apologetic.

She squeezes his thigh, hopes he takes it as reassurance. "I hope the cuffs can come off at some point. I like how you look like this, believe me. Would be totally down for trying it again but we're kind of limited in positions."

Caroline suspects Klaus had copped to having the cuffs, something that could contain him, when he'd found out she was coming. That he hadn't wanted to hurt her like he had the other (older, stronger) vampire that Kol had mentioned.

She'd made the connection easily, had been surprised by how _unsurprised_ the realization had left her.

She thinks it might be the push she needs to take a closer look at those feelings she likes to think she doesn't have. Of what they mean and what she should do about them.

Klaus' knees come up behind her swiftly and Caroline leans back against them, fingers once more returning to her clit. "I have to agree," Klaus rasps. "But, until then, I'm sure we can get creative, hmm?"

And then he does something with his hips, a twist at just the right moment that leaves Caroline crying out, thoughts about anything other than racing towards another climax flying out of her mind.

Her feelings, whatever they are, will still be there in a week.


	47. Sanctuary

**Notes: **A little what if drabble…

**Sanctuary**

**(A little idea I had post TO's finale. Current canon-ish and Rated K+.)**

Klaus isn't in New Orleans.

It's shock that hits Caroline first leaving her gaping as the waitress walks away. It's not a possibility she had ever considered – that he would just be _gone, _without a word or a direction. She has no idea what to do next. There's no one else who would help her, not a single soul she could trust with Josie and Lizzie's safety on the line.

Lizzie gets impatient first, tugging on Caroline's hand, "Mommy? Where's your friend?"

God, Caroline wished she knew. "I…I don't know, sweetie."

The waitress swings by again, her eyes raking over Caroline's deflated form. She must be wearing her bewilderment plainly, or maybe the other woman just knows the look of desperation. Probably sees it a lot in her line of work, people searching for answers in the bottom of a glass.

Hell, if she didn't have the twins with her Caroline would have asked for a bottle.

She pauses in front of Caroline, head tipped to the side. She rattles off an address and Caroline's forehead creases in confusion. "It used to be a church," she elaborates kindly. "A sanctuary for anyone who needs one. Ask for Vincent."

Caroline knows it's the best offer she's going to get. She hasn't slept in more than 24 hours, her bones feel heavy and it's only the sneaky sips of blood she's taken from gas station attendants that have her on her feet. She smiles tightly, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Good luck," the other woman offers, spinning on her heel and heading across the bar.

Caroline can't help but think that she's going to need it.

* * *

She's wary as she climbs the steps to the building she'd been directed to, taking in everything she can. She'd sent Alaric a text with the address, just in case. The façade is weathered, the stained glass windows gorgeous. There are brilliantly colored flowers blooming in planters along the walkway.

It feels peaceful and welcoming and Caroline's cautiously hopeful that this place is exactly as advertised. A sanctuary, somewhere she can rest and figure out a next step. She pushes the door open, taking Josie and Lizzie by the hand, placing herself in front of them as she walks in. She'd spoken to them when they'd gotten out of the car, told them how important it was that they kept quiet do as she said. She felt terrible about scaring them but they'd both nodded solemnly, eyes huge and lips pressed tight. They're great kids but these last few days have worn on them. As much as she's tried to keep calm and collected she knows they can feel her tension and it's led to their own nervousness and subdued reactions.

If they've finally caught a break maybe they can all relax a little.

The room they walk into is unassuming. The floors are well worn and big mismatched chairs and sofas take up space in haphazard groupings. It's also empty of other people but Caroline hears footsteps approaching. The man who enters is wiping his hands on a towel, his smile friendly and open. His eyes widen, taking the three of them in, "Can I help you?"

Caroline straightens her spine, meets his eyes steadily, "Are you Vincent? I was told that you might be able to."

"I am." He steps forward cautiously and Caroline stiffens, pushing the girls behind her more firmly. Her fangs are seconds from dropping and she's ready to go for his throat. He stills, holding up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. _Any_ of you. What do you need?"

"A few days to regroup. A bed. Some food."

"Some blood?" he asks knowingly.

"Yes," Caroline clips out, eyes narrowing.

But Vincent doesn't react, doesn't try to throw her out. His head tips towards the hallway he'd just emerged from, "Kitchen's that way. I was just going to start dinner. I don't know if I've got much that's kid friendly but I can probably do some Mac and Cheese. The good stuff, not that neon junk."

The girls peek out from behind Caroline's legs (cheese is something of a magic word where they're concerned) looking up at her with identical hopeful expressions. She smiles down at them reassuringly, running her fingertips over their heads for a moment before looking back at Vincent. She takes a leap because she had no other choice, "That would be great. Thank you."

* * *

The kitchen is homey, a long battered table with bench seating dominating one side. Vincent excuses himself for a minute, comes back with a tub of crayons and an armful of coloring books. "We don't get a lot of kids," he explains to Caroline. "But I figure it's best to be prepared."

Thanking him again she settles the girls at one end of the table with the books and a couple of juice boxes. They're soon chattering quietly, scribbling away and Caroline approaches Vincent tentatively. He hands her a mug, the metallic scent unmistakable. It's O+, not her favorite, but beggars can't be choosers. Caroline takes a sip, "I feel like a broken record but thanks."

Vincent shrugs, opens a fridge, and begins pulling food out. "I meant this place to be for anyone who needed it. You're not my first vampire. First one who's had two baby witches calling her 'Mommy' in tow so I gotta admit to some curiosity."

He says it evenly, doesn't look at her, choosing to focus on what he's doing at the counter. "It's a long story," Caroline hedges. "And a weird one."

He chuckles, shooting her an incredulous look. "This is New Orleans. Weird is what we do."

"Yeah, I'm from a place like that too."

"Mmm. I can see that. Got you turned pretty young, right? How'd that happen?"

Caroline lets out a long sigh, gives him the short version, "Girl gets in car accident. Girl's best friend's asshat vampire boyfriend is persuaded to feed her blood. Girl somehow wanders into an epic feud between old vampires and ends up smothered with a pillow. Girl wakes up alone with no idea what's happening to her."

"I'm sorry," Vincent tells her softly, and he seems sincere. Caroline's not sure if anyone's ever said that to her, about how she came to be what she is, and meant it.

"It's fine," she tells him. "It made me better in a lot of ways. Stronger."

Though she sometimes finds herself wondering if that's true anymore. There are so many other people, not just the twins, that rely on Caroline, that constantly _need_ things from her. She acts, does what she's asked, tells herself that it's for the best, that she's helping the people that she loves. That it doesn't matter that she no longer has any idea what _she_ wants.

Klaus had been the last person to remind her that she'd once had dreams. And maybe that's why she'd come to him.

For all the good it had done.

Caroline shakes herself, takes another drink of the blood, casting her eyes down the table. Vincent's not the type to mind silences apparently, and he's worked steadily, has pots boiling on the stove and a pile of vegetables chopped on a cutting board. He glances over at her, "Do they know? What you are?" he asks, following her line of sight.

"They're three," Caroline deadpans.

"I knew what a vampire was when I was three."

Caroline studies him for a moment, a piece of the puzzle clicking into place, "You're a witch."

A smile tugs at his lips, "Guilty."

Caroline sighs again, trying to decide how much to explain. "They're witches, yes. But they don't know that either. They got it from their birth mom, but she died and the rest of that side of their family is seriously nutty and it's safer if the girls stay _far_ away."

"That who you're running from?"

Caroline lets out a dry laugh, "Would you believe me if I said no?"

"I would," he replies genially. "But it's unfortunate that you've got so many problems."

"Truer statements," Caroline says, tipping her mug in his direction. "But it's not a new state of affairs. I'm just out of practice."

He turns, leans against the counter. "Can I ask what brought you to New Orleans?"

Caroline bites her lip, considers her words carefully. It's been years since she'd spoken to Klaus, longer since she'd seen him. Stefan had been pretty tight lipped about their interaction and Caroline hadn't really pressed, happy to have him back, even if that happiness had been brief. But Klaus isn't a guy who made friends easily, and he made enemies effortlessly. Caroline's not sure if dropping his name is going to help her here. "I have a friend who lived here. I thought he would help me."

Vincent raises a brow knowingly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Klaus Mikaelson?"

Caroline freezes, her grip on her mug tightening. "Yeah," she manages. "Him. How did you…"

"I got a heads up you were heading my way," he answers easily. "Now, I might not have known Klaus real well but a good friend of mine did. And she died because of it. He's not easy on people who care about him."

"It's complicated," Caroline tells him, unwilling to get into the details with someone she's just met, even if Vincent's been nothing but accommodating. "And we weren't always friends. I know what he can be like, trust me. But Klaus has come through for me, more than once. I knew he would again."

"Confident," Vincent remarks, more curious than anything. "How'd you meet him, anyway?"

Caroline snorts, "He tried to have me killed. On my birthday."

Vincent takes a moment to digest that, face flicking through several expressions, landing on mystified. "You weren't kidding about complicated."

"I wasn't," Caroline confirms. "He was the bad guy. I loathed him and he did some things that were pretty unforgivable. But the longer I'm a vampire the dirtier my own hands get and that maybe there are no good guys. At the end of the day I trust Klaus to keep me and _them_ safe. That's why I came here."

The noise that comes from Vincent then in contemplative, his face creasing in concentration and maybe a little bit of dread. When he speaks his words are halting, hesitant. "There's a cemetery, two blocks east of here. You can't miss it. You might want to take a little stroll through there before you leave the city. I think you'll find it interesting."

It's an odd tip, but something about his demeanor, the weight of his gaze gives Caroline pause. She wants to press but his face has closed off and he's turned away his precise, measured, movements as he works on dinner inviting no further conversation.

Wandering through a cemetery isn't Caroline's idea of a good time but there's no way she'll be able to leave without doing it. Not when it seemed important.

Her curiosity would kill her.

* * *

The day was gorgeous, the skies clear and the sun out. She knew it would get humid later but there's a breeze and people are just starting to spill out onto the streets. The twins are happily munching on beignets and Caroline's got a truly excellent cup of coffee in her hand. Taking in the sights and sounds, the ones she'd been too tired to truly appreciate her first day in the city, Caroline can see why Klaus had loved this place, can hear his words in her mind.

'_All I can think about is how much I want to show it to you…'_

She'd made herself dismiss them at the time even if she'd listened to his message over and over again. It had only been five years but it felt so much longer. Caroline can't believe how _young_ she'd been then. Wonders what she would have thought, at eighteen and freshly graduated, if she knew the strange twists her life would take. If that girl would have scoffed if told that one day she'd be on a street in New Orleans sorry that Klaus wasn't there to show her around like he'd wanted to.

The gates to the cemetery loom in front of them, imposing and unmistakable. There's no one around, and Caroline takes a deep breath before gently tugging on the girls' hands, leading them through. She hasn't been in one of these since she left Mystic Falls, where she used to sit and talk to her mother, needing someone who would listen and finding no one alive who seemed to have the time.

She's surprised that the peace she'd often found there at her mother's grave washes over her once more. This place is less depressing than she'd expected. The mausoleums are clearly built with love and care, the grounds well maintained. The girls are curious, peppering her with questions about the 'little houses' and the statues. Caroline answers as best she can, keeping it simple. She stutters to a stop, footsteps halting, when she hears something she shouldn't.

A heartbeat. Slow, weak but there. Behind a brick wall, a grave with no marker.

Caroline's own heart races, her mind making rapid connections. The brick's not fresh, as solid and dry as it is. And a human wouldn't survive behind it for very long at all.

'_I think you'll find it interesting,'_ Vincent had said, with resignation in his tone.

It's Klaus. She knows it is. It _has_ to be.

And leaving him there is not an option.

Caroline smiles down at the girls, hoping they've not picked up on her anxiety. Whoever put Klaus there will probably be pissed if she breaks him out so she's got to do this fast. She crouches down to the girls' eye level, "Mommy found her friend. And she needs to help him, okay? Can you girls go sit over on the grass for a minute?" She points to a sunny spot within her line of sight but far enough away that they won't be in danger when the wall comes down.

The retreat obediently plucking a couple flowers on their way over.

Caroline gets to work.

It's only one layer of brick thankfully. Punching right through the center where it's weakest leaves her knuckles bloody but they heal quickly only to open again as she tears away the wall until it's crumbled at her feet. She keeps her eyes averted, on her task, only noting the dark clothes and the grey skin of the figure inside.

She has no option once the wall is demolished and she swallows back a gasp when she finally looks at Klaus. His eyes are open but dull, lashes flickering weakly. She lays tentative fingertips on his chin, tilting it so he's looking at her. She has no idea if he can understand her, or what's wrong with him. If she had no trouble busting through that wall there's no way Klaus couldn't have. Something had weakened him, kept him trapped, and she'll need to find out what it is.

But not right now. They need to get out of New Orleans before someone notices that Klaus' prison has been disturbed. And she has no idea how long he's been there and she can't afford to have him starving and alert near the girls. Whatever's keeping him docile, and Caroline's betting magic, will have to stay in place until they're somewhere safer.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she tells him firmly. "Figures that I come to you for help and end up doing the rescuing, huh?"

Klaus can't respond and he's limp when she hefts him over her shoulder. The girls are watching her with huge eyes, hands suspended in mid-air with half a flower crown competed. Caroline smiles brightly, wishing that she'd maybe started easing them into her not so normalness before now. There's going to be a lot of questions on the drive.

She pitches her voice cheery, waves them over, "Let's go, girls! We need to get on the road."

They need to keep moving until it's safer, the current threats under control.

Then Caroline can figure out what happened to Klaus.


	48. Mini Drabble: Kink List Three

**Notes:** Wow! Quite a reaction to that last chapter (the only one that's gotten more of a reaction in this collection is the Genie!Klaus and Mermaid!Caroline pair of drabbles). Most people want more so I will think on it! This chapter is my continuing adventures with the Kink Prompt List so more smut here.

**Heater's Broken**

**(Prompt #61 – Morning Sex. Title from "Snowed In/Cruisin'" by Joel Plaskett Emergency. SMUT).**

Caroline stirs when she hears the door open, burrows deeper into the bed to avoid the gust of cold air that blows into the cabin. She was firmly a beach girl but it had been Klaus' turn to pick their destination and he'd surprised her. Klaus usually picked cities, delighted in fancy restaurants and opulent hotels. Caroline had been dubious on the small plane from Helsinki, eyes glued to the snow covered ground. They were staying in a log cabin glass igloo combo – well-appointed and cozy but not what she thought of as Klaus' style.

They'd arrived late last night and Caroline had found out that Klaus had rented out the entire resort. She'd been tired from the long day of travel, had conked out before she'd really gotten to appreciate the Northern Lights. They were supposed to stay for two weeks so she wasn't too concerned. She'd woken up when Klaus had left the bed in the wee hours, blinking up at the glass dome above her to find the sky pitch black. He'd piled the covers on her, told her to go back to sleep. She'd assumed he was going to go get wolfy-y, run around in the surrounding forests, and had managed to drift off once more.

She rolls into Klaus when he slides under the blankets and then immediately recoils feeling how cold and damp he is. "Ew," she grumbles, squirming away. "What, did you polar bear swim or something?"

Klaus laughs softly, following her over onto her side of the bed, attempting to extricate her from the mass of bedding she'd wound herself in. "It's snowing, love."

"Gross," Caroline complains. "Go shower or something. Come back when you're warm."

"Or," Klaus says, managing to get a hand inside her blanket burrito, and under her clothes, cold fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "You could help me warm up and then we could shower together. Perhaps test out the sauna?"

She cracks her eyes open to look at him, considering the offer. Klaus didn't sleep much and sometimes his morning person-ness annoyed the crap out of her. She wouldn't have ever thought he'd be the type, had always assumed he'd lounge in a huge bed, smoking jacket on, compelled humans bringing him blood, peeled grapes and expresso while he lazed away.

It just seemed like the villain-y thing to do, in Caroline's mind.

_That_ image had been quick to die. The first night they'd actually _slept_ together he'd woken her up as the sun had been rising over Paris. His head had been between her thighs, his tongue stroking wicked patterns over her clit. It had been pretty damn hard to be pissed about her interrupted sleep as she'd come hard, grinding up against his mouth. Twice.

But she'd still managed to complain after even if the fluffiest, butteriest, croissant in the world had almost distracted her.

Klaus was far from an idiot and had quickly cottoned on to the fact that Caroline was not a morning person. At all. But he apparently liked to live dangerously and had no qualms about testing her commitment to sleeping in. Usually with sex and Caroline still found it hard to be all that mad about it.

She totally blamed the endorphins.

She relaxes her hold on the blankets and Klaus takes advantage, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her swiftly underneath him. He leans down, nuzzles into her neck as he settles between her thighs. One of his hands tugs the tab of her hoodie down. "You are wearing far too much fabric, sweetheart."

Caroline huffs, "We are in the arctic circle, Klaus." But she shifts up, lets him peel the sweatshirt away and toss it aside. She flinches when his cool palms land on her waist, pushing up the layers of tank top and long sleeved t-shirt that she was wearing underneath until Caroline peels it off the rest of the way herself.

"You're a vampire," Klaus points out, slipping under the blankets. She can't see him but she inhales sharply when his lips land on her stomach, again when he nips at her navel.

"Just because the cold won't kill me doesn't mean I don't feel it. And it sucks."

She feels him laugh against her skin, watches the blankets shake slightly. She's about to tell him to shut up but she's distracted by his fingers latching onto her leggings, working them down her legs. They're quickly lost somewhere beneath the sheets, and Caroline bites her lip when Klaus hooks her legs over his shoulders, pushing them wide.

Not being able to see him is driving her nuts. Klaus takes full advantage and seems to be intent on teasing her with inconsistent touches, building her up in fits and starts. The brush of his thumb along her slit, a nip at her hipbone. A playful squeeze of her ass has her jolting, his tongue licking along the crease of her thigh leaves her squirming.

Finally he deepens the caresses, parting her folds. But he still doesn't give her what she wants, blowing gently against her wetness, only lightly brushing a fingertip over her entrance. She clenches down with a groan but Klaus retreats and Caroline reaches down and yanks up the blankets so she can glare at him. "Klaus. Come on," she pleads, her hips shifting restlessly.

It seems to be what he'd wanted because his head dips immediately, and his tongue finds her clit, circling and pressing as he slips two fingers inside of her smoothly. He still refuses to rush. Caroline lets herself sink back into the pillows, pulls the blankets up over her head so she can still watch him and free her hands. One twines into Klaus' hair and the other toys with a nipple. He works her up slowly, luxurious laps that have him moaning appreciatively at her taste. Her thighs twitch wildly under his grip every time his lips wrap around her clit but he always pulls back just before it's enough to make her come. Caroline's breathing quickens, her temperature rises. Soon she's sweating, their blanket cocoon warm and humid.

Klaus really hadn't been kidding about warming up.

He meets her eyes when he brings her to the edge again and Caroline thinks he's going to let her go over this time, her muscles tensing in anticipation. But Klaus surprises her, throwing off the blankets and pulling away all together.

She whimpers, in shock and protest, her skin reacting to the cold, breaking out in goosebumps. Her nipples tighten into aching points, and she barely has time to process before Klaus is licking one. His mouth is hot and she arches up into him, her legs climbing up his sides, arms banding around her back, pressing his body tightly against hers. Caroline's eyes widen, taking in the snow covered glass and clear sky above her. Klaus' cock rubs against her folds for a moment, a purposeful tease, before he finds her entrance, and eases inside of her. Caroline moans as he slides deep, clamping down around his length. She'd been so very close and Klaus knows it, his hand sneaking between their bodies as his teeth scrape against her nipple. He rubs her clit, perfect circles of his thumb, and her climax bursts through her, limbs locking him to her as she trembles.

And then he starts to move, pulling one leg up over his arms, widening her thighs and allowing his cock to brush against her clit at each entry.

She quickly forgets about being cold, his measured thrusts the only thing she can concentrate on.

Caroline runs her hand down Klaus' back, claws at his skin when he begins to speed up. He leans up to kiss her, licking into her mouth, sucking on her lower lip. She tries to keep up but finds that she can't, wrapping her free leg high over his hip, pulling him into her more roughly.

They know how to move together, have had years of practice in learning each other's likes and dislikes, turn ons and triggers. Klaus begins to talk, low voiced encouragements about how good she feels, how badly he needs her come around him. What he's going to do to her in the shower, ideas he has for the benches in the sauna.

Caroline's eyes squeeze shut as she comes, crying his name, nails drawing blood. Klaus curses, the little bite of pain the thing that allows him to follow her and he trembles through his own climax, hips locked to hers.

He rolls them when he's spent, groping for the discarded blanket and pulling it up over her shoulders. Resting her head on his shoulder Caroline stretches, lets out a content groan as Klaus' fingers comb through her hair. "Still not sold on this whole winter thing," she tells him.

His laughter shakes her, and Caroline hides a smile of her own. "Really? No matter. I suspect that I can convince you."

Glancing up Caroline smirks, "How about you convince me in the shower?"

Klaus really isn't one to let an opening like that go and Caroline finds herself under the hot spray at a dizzying speed.

She's totally drawing the line at sex in the frigid woods though. It might be one of their things but Caroline was pretty sure getting pine needles in delicate areas was a bad idea.

**Fight To Win**

**(#6 – Car Sex + #33 – Angry!Sex + #32 – Coming Untouched. SMUT).**

"She's certainly _friendly_, isn't she? And with such a _lovely_ little form. You always did have an eye for beauty, Klaus."

It's a taunt, said with a leer, by a vampire who's not going to survive the week.

Klaus casts his eyes down to the dance floor, not that he needs to check on Caroline. She looks radiant, skin flushed and damp from her exertions, hair a wild mess of curls and just a hint of red on her lips. She meets his eyes and grins, crooks a finger in a clear invitation to join her. Klaus shakes his head, a touch regretfully and she pouts before turning her attention to her current dance partner who's hands have begun to wander a bit too far. She shoves him away and slides through the crowd, easily finding another human to keep her occupied.

Klaus has been constantly aware of her movements, the people she dances with, those she chooses to feed from. Usually men, as is her habit. The occasional flares of guilt she feels (courtesy of Stefan Salvatore's subpar teachings) are almost nonexistent when she feeds from men who don't seem to understand the meaning of the word no, who attempt to push their way into her space without invitation.

There are plenty of them to be found in places like this, pounding music, flashing lights, bodies tightly packed on a dancefloor. Caroline had dived right into the thick of it, her short skirt and formfitting white top luring humans to her as she moves to the heavy bass.

It's not Klaus' favorite form of entertainment but he'd known he would find who he'd been looking for in the roped off area overlooking the writhing crowd.

Klaus' sources were excellent.

His prey had been dismayed to see him but had covered quickly, become the consummate host offering refreshments – both blood and alcohol, dismissing those he'd been seated with to give Klaus his full attention. He had asked all the appropriate questions an old acquaintance would all the while clumsily trying to ferret out the reasons behind Klaus' unannounced appearance in Belgrade.

They've been speaking for close to an hour, and Klaus is quite bored. His opponent is in no way worthy of Klaus' best attempts at manipulation, despite the man's delusions of grandeur.

The vampire, a sireling of Rebekah's, had been turned in the 17th century. Bekah had thought herself in love with Stannis Babic at the time though that hardly made him special. The fact that he was one of the few Klaus hadn't bothered to kill possibly did. But he hadn't needed to in the end. Turning had emphasized certain personality traits in Stannis that Bekah hadn't been able to abide so she'd compelled him to carve out his own heart if he ever looked in her direction again.

It had been a proud moment for Klaus, _and_ conveniently offered him a neat way of disposing of Stannis. He'd already sent Rebekah a text, instructed her to fly out when she was done spending his money in Paris.

Stannis had gotten unbearably uppity, held court with a group of vampires. They were guilty of being entirely unsubtle, overfeeding on tourists. And Klaus had gotten word that there had been whispers of white oak from this corner of the world. He'd discovered it to be idle bragging but he'd not have been willing to let it stand even if he'd liked Stannis.

And Klaus definitely did not.

Even before Stannis had been unforgivably condescending to Caroline when they'd been introduced, had let his eyes linger on her in a way Klaus did not appreciate. She'd been polite about it, pulled out that practiced pageant smile that anyone with an ounce of intelligence would recognize as fake. She'd let it drop when her back had been to Stannis, favoring Klaus with a flat, unimpressed expression that had him hiding a smile as she excused herself to go dance.

Stannis evidently dislikes being ignored, breaking into Klaus' musings. "Wherever did you find her?"

"It's a very long story," Klaus tells him dismissively, draining his glass and standing. "And as lovely as it's been catching up I find I grow tired of what passes for music these days. "

"Should I expect to see you again?" Stannis asks, and Klaus isn't deaf to the relief there.

"Doubtful," Klaus tells him, unable to help the smirk that accompanies the words. A smarter man would have asked a different question. Klaus does hope Rebekah enjoys herself when she arrives.

He makes a beeline for Caroline, lifting drunken tourists out of his way as needed. Klaus comes up behind her setting a hand on her hip, glaring at the boy who'd been dancing with her until he holds up his hands and retreats. Caroline melts into him, one of her hands coming up to tangle in his hair as her hips move to the pounding music, her arse rubbing up against him teasingly. "He was cute," she complains. "Probably tasty."

Klaus rolls his eyes, runs his hand up her bare stomach and under her top. Caroline's breath stutters as he cups her breast, pushing insistently into his palm. "You can't possibly still be hungry, love," Klaus says, teasing her nipple as he speaks. "You fed from four men and a woman."

She rakes her nails down his neck, rolling her hips insistently, "Mmm. You noticed."

"You wanted me to notice. "

"Maybe. You looked so very bored. I'm surprised you left him alive."

Klaus laughs, nips at the nape of her neck. "What happened to you disproving of casual acts of violence, sweetheart?"

"He was icky and was way too obviously staring at my ass."

Klaus spins her, and Caroline lets out a giggle of her own when she crashes into his chest, arms twining around his neck. One of his hands drops, fingertips dragging up the back of her thigh, teasing her skin just under the edge of her skirt as he slides a leg in between hers.

Caroline grinds against him and Klaus can feel the heat of her, is nearly certain there's nothing under her skirt. She does it again, head tipping back and lips parting around a moan. The hand on her leg wanders higher, confirming his suspicion when he finds no silk or lace to hinder his explorations. He uses his grip to pull her against him harder, dipping his head and kissing her throat as she moans again. "Naughty, naughty," he mock scolds, tongue darting out to taste her slick skin. "I do believe you forgot something."

He looks up to see a sly smile curling her lips, and Caroline shakes her head. "Do you remember the last time we were at a place like this? Or the time before that? I just decided to skip you shredding another pair of panties that I like."

A fair point. Caroline likes to dance and while Klaus rather enjoys watching her do it too many other people do as well. He always feels the need to touch her build, the desire to sink into her skin and make it known that she was _his, _when he sees how many strangers watch her with hungry eyes. He could rarely wait for privacy, and Caroline didn't mind. Liked the thrill of people watching them, knowing that they wished to do more than that.

He could get her off like this, Klaus knows, and quickly too given the frantic jerks of her hips against his thigh. A little maneuvering and he could slip his hand between her legs, find her slick and hot and toy with her clit until she was shaking and panting against him. But he knows Stannis is watching them and that's not an audience Klaus wants.

No need to give the doomed vampire a treat he did not deserve.

One last scrape of his teeth against Caroline's collarbone, just to feel her shudder against him and Klaus pulls away. Caroline makes a noise of protest, blinking at him in bewilderment. Her voice is thick, "I was almost there," she complains, thighs pressed together as she shifts in discomfort.

Klaus takes her hand, tugs her into his side, wrapping his arm around her, "I know. I'll make it up to you."

"You better," Caroline grumbles darkly, walking just the slightest bit unsteadily.

Klaus grins, shifts his hand so he can toy with her waistband, his palm hot on her side, "I always do you must admit. How would you like to come first, love? I bet I could to it with no more than a stroke of my tongue against your clit right now, as _tense_ as you are."

Caroline turns her head to glare, tries to pry his hand away from her, and nails digging in, "Don't talk about it if you're not planning on doing it, Klaus."

"Perhaps you're right," Klaus muses, attempting to keep a straight face. Caroline relaxes fractionally. Until he speaks again, "I suspect it will take a little more effort by the time we return to the hotel. Not that I object to putting in a little more work. We could try the balcony, to satisfy your delightful little exhibitionist streak? I could hike up that tempting skirt you're wearing and watch you try not to break the railing as I fuck you from behind."

She elbows him sharply, swallowing hard. Her color's high, arousal evident. "You're a dick and I hate you."

"Lies," Klaus refutes cheerfully. "And you know it."

Their rental vehicle is in sight and Caroline speeds up with a grateful sigh, her heels clicking sharply on the cobblestones. Klaus opens the door for her, helping her in even as she huffs in annoyance and slaps away his wandering hands to fasten her own seatbelt.

She shoves him away when he grazes her thigh, "Get in the car or I'm leaving without you," Caroline bites out, eyes flashing. "You can sleep on the couch and listen to me get myself off if you keep this up."

Klaus presses a kiss to her cheek, lingering against her skin. "Careful, love. Or I'll take that as a challenge."

She lets out an exasperated noise, her hands reaching for him. He's not entirely certain if her intent had been to grab him and pull him closer or push him further away but she's evidently forgotten there had been something in her hand. Her clutch falls to the floorboard with a solid thunk and Caroline's attention is pulled away. "Ugh, I hope nothing broke," she says worriedly, undoing her seatbelt and leaning forward.

Klaus speeds around to the other side of the car, is in the driver's seat with keys in hand while she's still bent over, groping for her bag. He turns it over, revs the engine, and is just about to ask Caroline if everything's all right when she sits up abruptly, her hands reaching out to scrabble at the dashboard. Her eyes have slammed shut and a noise that Klaus is very familiar with tumbles from her lips, low and desperate as she squirms in her seat. Raising an eyebrow he repeats the action with the car and it rumbles beneath them. Caroline falls back in her seat, back arched and crying out as her limbs quiver.

Caroline pants, her eyes still closed, chest heaving and Klaus is unable to help the tinge of amusement he feels. "Did you just come, sweetheart? Without even a touch? I know you claim I'm unbearably egotistical but really…"

Her hand flies out, smacking him across the chest. Hard enough to crack a rib if he were a little more delicate. "Shut up," she tells him, trying to sound angry. It's difficult, when she's still short of breath, her expression lax and sated. Klaus takes advantage of her distraction, reaching over and insinuating his hand between her thighs. "Klaus," Caroline whines, but he doesn't take it as a protest. It would be hard to do when she's opening her legs to give him room to touch her, slouching down to the edge of the seat. He parts her gently, gliding his fingers through her folds, dipping into where she's the wettest before finding her clit. Caroline whimpers, head thrown back as one of her hands sneaks under her top, working against her breast as her hips rock against his hand. He circles her clit, speeding up as her thighs tense. It's not quite enough, and he keeps her there just on the edge for a long moment, denying her the direct contact that will have her coming again.

It's a little mean, Klaus knows. But the noises she makes, the needy little gasps and sighs, are lovely. The way she looks like this, flushed and focused on nothing but her own pleasure is one of Klaus' favorite sights.

Regretfully he pulls his hand away, tries not to smile at the indignant squeak she makes. Caroline's head rolls to look at him and something like an actual growl comes from low in her chest. Klaus tries to look innocent, licking her taste from his finger as he holds her gaze. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown and she shakes her head jerkily, "No," she grits out. "I am not playing this game right now, Klaus."

She's moving before he can reply, getting her knees under her and leaning over the centre console. "Take off your damn pants," she demands and tears open his shirt without preamble. She bites his shoulder with blunt teeth, and the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure streaking down his spine. His hands drop to obey and he expects her to crawl into his lap, to take him deep and hard, until the SUV is shaking with the force of it, once he's gotten his jeans out of the way.

But Caroline surprises him, as she is fond of doing, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and sucking the head into her mouth, moaning as she descends. Klaus lets out a curse of his own, arms flying back to grip his headrest, shifting restlessly underneath her. She's rougher than she usually is, the edge of her teeth leaving him tensing, his hands digging into the leather he's clutching. She fondles his balls as she sucks him hard, tongue lashing as she goes. He fruitlessly tries to control his breathing, shuddering when her nails dig into his thigh, drawing a streak of blood. He lets out a garbled moan of protest when she pulls away from his cock to lap at the shallow wound, rasping out a curse at her pleased hum.

Caroline pulls back abruptly, grabs his neck and slants her mouth over his. It's hot and messy and his taste in her mouth pushes Klaus a little closer to the edge. He meets her tongue eagerly, threading his fingers into her hair and holding her close. He lets out a hiss when her fangs slice into his lip, opening his eyes and finding hers that brilliant red that he adores and focused on him. "What would you do if I left you hanging right now, Klaus?" she asks softly, throwing a leg over his but not letting her weight rest on him. He feels the barest brush of her heat on his cock but she sways away, running her nose down his throat. "How would you like it?" she taunts, right before he feels her teeth dig into his neck.

He grabs her hips and pulls her closer. His, "Fuck, Caroline," is a guttural curse as she tilts her hips and his cock slips inside of her. She slams down and moans against his skin as she drinks, hips picking up a harsh rhythm that Klaus frantically matches. He slides a hand up her back, holding her tightly against him, enjoying the shudders, the high pitched noises of delight, that wrack her frame. Klaus reaches between them with his free hand to rub at her clit. He'd been on the edge and there's no way he's going to come before her. He's enjoyed their game immensely but not enough to let Caroline win it. A few rough presses of his thumb and she's pulling back with a cry and letting go, her inner muscles coiling around his cock and pulling his own orgasm from him.

She slumps against him, breathing harshly against his throat. Her hands drop from the seat to rest on his chest, one covering his heart, fingertips absently tapping with the slowing beats. She presses one last kiss to the healing bite, shifting off of him with a disgruntled murmur and flopping into the passenger seat without a thought for grace. Her legs are spread, skirt hiked to her waist, and Klaus' eyes are riveted to her center, to the slick flesh covered in their mingled release. He grips the steering wheel to keep from reaching for her again.

Caroline stretches her arms above her head, breasts straining the fabric that covers unfortunately still them. "That was a fun game," she murmurs, a smirk curling her lips as her hand strokes her thigh under his avid gaze. It drifts higher, and she shudders as she flicks her index finger over her clit. "Wanna play another?" she asks impishly, bringing her fingertip to her mouth.

"Terms?" Klaus asks, already knowing he's going to agree.

She lets out a hum, widening her thighs and getting comfortable, "If you can get us back to the hotel before I can get myself off you can pick what we do the rest of the night. Fuck me any way you want."

A prize with _definite_ appeal. "And if you can?"

"My pick. And your tongue better be up to the challenge."

Klaus nods his agreement, throwing the car into reverse (gently, since she'd never bothered to put her seatbelt back on) just as Caroline sinks a finger inside of herself.

It's not as if there's a losing side to that bargain, is there?

**Slide A Little Closer**

**(#60 – Bed Sharing. Title from "Cabin Down Below" by Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. SMUT).**

Caroline's not all that gentle when she drops Klaus on the bed. But her shoulders are aching and she's out of breath. Dragging Klaus' dead weight over god knows how many miles of rough terrain had been a serious strain on her vampire's stamina. The springs in the mattress squeak loudly at the added weight and Caroline wrinkles her nose in distaste at the shiny polyester green and gold bedspread.

Someone was a little too convinced they were a Slytherin.

They're at a Bed And Breakfast somewhere in Louisiana. It's not her usual style and _definitely_ not Klaus' but she had no cash on her and hadn't been able to find a wallet when she'd patted Klaus down so she assumed he'd lost it at some point while she'd been dragging him through the forest. She'd picked this place because it had been out of the way and hadn't looked like the kind of place that had security cameras installed making it easier to compel the owners into giving them a room.

Caroline did feel a teeny bit guilty because the couple who ran the place had been welcoming and seemed sweet. She'd have to remember to convince Klaus to send them a check later.

Once he was conscious.

Another thing Caroline felt pretty guilty about.

She'd been running from a couple of Gemini Coven witches who seemed to think they could convince (read: torture) Caroline into giving up Alaric and Jo's location, their intention being to take the twins back into their creepy familicidal fold. Never mind the fact that she didn't even know where the happy family was and even if she had there's no way she would have talked. She'd stepped back after the twins had been born and Jo brought back. Caroline been happy for them but more than willing to reclaim her life and her body. It had been the push she'd needed to finally get away from Mystic Falls, finally sick of being a pawn in other people's supernatural schemes.

But that had only lasted so long.

A couple of witches had stormed her office in Dallas and Caroline had barely managed to pack a bag before they'd shown up at her apartment. They'd been on her tail ever since and she'd been desperate. A road sign pointing the direction, counting down the miles, to New Orleans had seemed like an omen.

She'd found Klaus in a bar in the quarter. Hadn't even had time to enjoy the sight of him, shocked and wide eyed and groping for something to say, before they'd been under attack. Witches had stormed in after her, glass had started flying. The handful of patrons and the blonde bartender had ducked for cover, seemingly used to that sort of disturbance.

Klaus' eyes had darkened, jaw tensed as he'd grown livid. He'd urged her behind him, demanding to know who dared come into his city and attack so brazenly.

The witch who'd seemed to be leading the charge (Caroline hadn't bothered to get her name, for obvious reasons, but she was a little Liv-like in her mannerisms) had stepped up, and crossed her arms as she'd stared Klaus down. "This isn't your business, _Hybrid_," she'd snarled, an edge of dismissiveness that Caroline knew was a mistake. "We'll be taking the blonde vampire. She's hidden something of ours and we need it back."

Klaus had chanced a curious glance Caroline's way and she'd shaken her head in denial.

He'd grinned, turned back to the witch, strolling forward in a manner that was deceptively casual. "She says she hasn't. And even if she _had_ you'd be out of luck, I'm afraid. Caroline happens to be a friend of mine and I'm not very good at those. I'm sure you're aware of my reputation. I think it best to keep the ones I've already made. You understand."

Things had gotten blurry after that.

The witch had snarled something highly uncomplimentary back at Klaus and he'd lashed out. She'd ended up a heap on the floor, neck at an odd angle. The five remaining Gemini's had started throwing spells but Klaus had barely reacted beyond the occasional twitch or wince. Four had fallen quickly but then Klaus' tendency to speechify had reared its ugly head.

His hand around the final witch's throat Klaus had tried to offer him a deal – his life in return for turning tail and telling his coven that there would be dire consequences if they continued to harass Caroline, or set foot in New Orleans again.

It was pretty damn unlucky that the last witch standing had been another pesky siphoner.

Klaus' words had faltered and he'd swayed on his feet, face creasing in confusion. "Damn it," Caroline had bitten out, speeding forward and snapping the witch's neck. He'd hit the ground and Klaus had stumbled, blinking rapidly in confusion. She'd reached out to steady him. "He's a magic sucker," she'd explained. "The coven's lousy with them and they're a pain in the ass. You'll be fine in a couple days."

"Enemies," he'd pushed out, voice weak and thin. "I cannot be _weak_."

Right before his eyes rolled back in his head and he'd collapsed against her.

"Crap," Caroline had muttered, adjusting so she could hold him up, looping Klaus' limp arm over her shoulder. The people in the bar had begun shifting, peeking up over tables now that the noise had died down. She'd caught the bartender's eye, noted the worry in the other woman's gaze. "What's the fastest way out of New Orleans on foot from here?" Caroline had demanded.

Stupid witches had blown out her tires a couple miles out of the city.

"East," the woman had stuttered out. Caroline had nodded, and made to leave the bar. "Wait! You can't just take him," the bartender had called, voice pitching shrill. "Who even are you?"

Caroline had rolled her eyes, and swung back around. Swallowed back the slightly inappropriate 'taking' joke that was on the tip of her tongue. "Trust me, Klaus won't really mind. Is Rebekah around? Tell her Caroline stopped by and that I'll call her later to explain."

Ugh, that was going to suck.

She hauled Klaus out of the bar before the bartender could muster up another protest, or worse make a feeble attempt to stop Caroline. She'd sped walked down the street, keeping a sharp eye on her surroundings mindful of threats. No one tried to speak to her, or got in her way, most merely cast an amused stare as she passes. Probably assuming she was just a girl dragging her drunken boyfriend home. Score one for NOLA's party city reputation.

She was fairly certain that more witches would pop up, the Gemini Coven being both sprawling and dogged. And who knows who Klaus had lurking in the woodwork ready to pop up and strike at him while he couldn't defend himself. She'd known they needed to lay low for a couple of days, and a rough plan had formed in her mind as she'd headed east, like the bartender had directed.

Hence the reason they'd landed in a mildly to moderately tacky B&amp;B in the middle of nowhere.

Glancing at Klaus, flopped awkwardly across the double bed Caroline feels another sharp pang of guilt. She had dragged him into her mess, so she should probably be a little more considerate. She tugs off his boots, hesitates before pulling off his belt and watch too. She shifts him so she can turn down the blankets, props his head on the pillow and covers him up.

Takes a step back and silently curses how small the bed is. Biting her lip Caroline silently weighs her options. She could sleep on the floor, avoid any potential awkwardness that way. But on the other hand Damon had been out for two days after tangling with a siphoner so it was entirely possible, likely even, that Klaus would never know she'd crawled in to bed with him, so there would be no awkwardness, right?

The floor is hardwood, unlikely to be comfortable. And Caroline suspects that she'd get an eyeful of the dust bunnies under the bed if she was to lay down on it and then she'd never get to sleep.

She was really freaking tired, having gotten little rest in the last few days and pushed her physical limits so far in the last few hours.

The bed is really her only option. Caroline kicks off her shoes, and strips off her cardigan before gingerly easing herself on to the bed. She sticks close the edge but she can feel Klaus behind her, the solid warmth of him, and she chances a glance over her shoulder. He's still passed out, looking younger and more relaxed than she's ever seen him, breathing evenly.

It's a good look and she wishes she still had her phone so she could sneak a picture.

Klaus would hate that.

Smiling to herself Caroline settles down, lets her eyes drift shut. Focuses on the steady beating of Klaus' heart to lull herself to sleep.

* * *

Drifting into consciousness Caroline's groggy but immediately aware of several things. One, hugging the edge of the bed hadn't lasted long. She's now firmly in the middle, one of her thighs draped over Klaus, her head tucked into his shoulder. Two, her inability to sleep without pants has reared its ugly head because her jeans are nowhere to be found. And three (something Caroline really should have considered – Klaus was way older and a _hybrid_) Klaus apparently hadn't taken nearly as long as Damon to recover and was definitely awake and tracing distracting shapes on the bare skin of her thigh.

There was no way she was getting out of this one gracefully.

She tries to shift off him but Klaus' hand stills her, wrapping around her knee. "Morning," he greets her, sounding perfectly content. "Or possibly afternoon. I can't get a proper view of the sun from here and I was loath to disturb you."

Caroline scoffs, propping her head up on her elbow. Klaus' head turns to look at her, smirk tugging at his lips. "Such a gentleman," she needles. "Mind telling me how I lost my pants?"

Klaus' amusement grows, dimples fully deployed, "That was all you, love. They were gone when I awoke, not that I minded." His hand caresses her, thumb dragging along the soft skin of her inner thigh, emphasizing his point, and Caroline's skin tingles under his touch.

She shifts restlessly but can't bring herself to pull away from him. Caroline attempts a joke, "Well, it's the least I can do for dragging you down with me."

Klaus' eyes narrow at the reminder, a hint of gold brightening the blue, "Right. I'll be needing you to tell me where I can find the rest of that coven. I'll be eliminating it."

"Good luck. They're prolific and persistent."

"So am I," Klaus tells her firmly. "What do they want with you?"

"Information." Caroline tells him. "That I don't have and wouldn't give them even if I did. But they don't seem to grasp that."

Klaus nods, expression resolved. "More reasons to get rid of them, then. I'll have it done within the week, sweetheart."

What does it say that she believes him? That she feels safer with his promise lingering between them? Probably something big and important and scary. So not what Caroline had been expecting to do today, and not in her plans at all.

"A week?" Caroline teases, reaching out to poke at his side, needing a little levity. "Seems like you're getting a little rusty, Klaus."

Klaus traps her hand against his stomach and Caroline's fingers twitch with the urge to explore the lean muscle there, that she'd had _far_ too little time to catalogue before, nagging at her. Klaus is watching her knowingly, "I'm not altogether at full strength. I think it best if we stay here for a bit. Recoup."

Caroline's fairly certain that he's exaggerating, has something other than bedrest on his mind. And if she's right, the idea appeals. But still, a little trickle of worry flits through her. "Do you need blood? There are a couple other people staying here."

He yanks on the thigh that's still in his grasp sitting up in one smooth motion and settling her over his lap. "Later," he murmurs eyes on her face. His hands slip under her top, fingertips tracing her skin lightly. "I have a confession."

She'd rested her hands on his shoulders once her suspicions about his intentions had been confirmed, content to play along. Caroline toys with one of the leather cords Klaus wears around his neck. She raises a brow, "Oh?"

"When you rolled on to me you were dreaming. You touched me and I slipped in. I did not do it on purpose but I found I couldn't tear myself away once I saw what was playing in that fascinating mind of yours. Seemed fair since I was heavily featured, after all."

Caroline stiffens, eyes drifting shut in embarrassment. Dreams of Klaus aren't new, or that infrequent, and while they're not always sexual she kind of hopes whatever he'd seen had been. Way easier to explain than one of the mundane ones, where they're just talking in a random room, or silently exploring her imagination's rendering of one of the cities he'd promised to show her.

She cracks her eyes open to find him waiting for her patiently, and she can't get a read on his face. She decides to keep it vague, just in case. "Listen, don't judge the contents of my dreams. Just because I fantasize about something doesn't mean I'm game to do it. It's perfectly healthy!"

One of his brows ticks up and his hand on her back drops low, pulling her against him. He's hard behind the zipper of his jeans so at least her pervy subconscious is good for something. She grinds down against him, nails scraping at his neck. Klaus' lips brush her bare shoulder as he speaks, "So you don't want my mouth on you?"

She breath stutters at the hint of his teeth along her collarbone, "I didn't say _that_," she manages. Because she's not an idiot.

She feels his smile against her skin right before the world twists around her and she finds herself flat on her back. He kisses her stomach, fingers stroking over her panties. They're already sticking to her, damp from her dreams and the friction she'd found on his lap. Klaus presses harder, right over her clit and Caroline spreads her legs in a silent plea for more. He obliges her, knuckle curling under the fabric pulling it to the side as his head dips. He takes a taste of her, slow and luxurious, and Caroline's hands clutch at the sheets.

He pulls back and she whimpers, looking down to meet his eyes. Klaus smirks, lips wet. "And the ropes? I admit I find those particularly intriguing. I'm afraid we can't play with those now. I don't think this bed is up to the task even if we had them available. But if you'd like to stay for a while I'm sure we can find something around my house that would suffice."

He's holding her eyes expectantly but his thumb sneaks between them, rolling over her clit. Caroline shudders, rasps out, "Maybe."

He lets out a contemplative hum as his mouth touches her clit and Caroline's back arches at the sensation, a moan tumbling from her. "I'll just have to be convincing," he murmurs darkly right before he sets out to drive her insane.

Klaus rips away her panties and it's clear that he's forgotten nothing from those hours in the woods, knows exactly how to push her to the edge of coming with lips and tongue and teeth. But he holds back just enough until she's pulled taught and tense, Klaus' hands holding her still when all she wants to do is push herself against his mouth, direct it to where she _needs_ it.

He'd stopped every time she'd reached for him, pulled back and given her a pointed look until she'd huffed and moved her hands away. They're clenched around a pillow, and she's sure she's ripped it but Caroline can't bring herself to care with the way her body's throbbing.

Taking a deep shuddering breath she looks down, finds him watching her, eyes hot and greedy on her flushed face. "Klaus, please," she manages, barely recognizing her own voice, thick with want as it is. "Please, please, I need more."

"Take off your shirt," he tells her softly. "The bra too."

Caroline fumbles, her hands clumsy as she strips the rest of her clothing away.

"Touch yourself for me, sweetheart. Help me give you what you want."

He hands fly to her breasts, cupping them and tugging at her nipples, head and heels digging into the bed.

"Look at me," Klaus urges and her eyes snap to him.

He sucks her clit into his mouth and Caroline shouts in relief. Klaus slides two fingers inside of her and then out again rapidly, the slick glide audible under her pants and sighs. He's no longer teasing and it doesn't take long until she's stiffening, coming hard under his ministrations, his name on her lips.

She's barely relaxed on the bed, muscles still fluttering when he's rearing up, urging her over on to her stomach. She hears him pulling his clothes away and then he's pressing against her back, one of his hands tugging her knee up and to the side as his cock slips over her folds. Klaus laces his fingers through hers, pinning her hands on either side of her head. He rolls his hips and Caroline curses, the sound muffled in the pillow as the head of his cock rubs over her achingly sensitive clit. She tilts her hips back and he finds her entrance, driving inside of her in one firm thrust.

She can't move much but she finds she doesn't mind, likes his skin on hers and all the things he's making her feel. It's probably all part of Klaus' plan to persuade her to let him tie her to his bed but she'll be pissed at the sneakiness later. Maybe.

Klaus sets a snapping pace and she's quickly climbing again, her nails digging into the skin of his hands. She shudders when she feels his fangs against her neck, tipping her head to the side in invitation. He lets go of her hands and rolls them to the side as he bites, shoving his wrist in front of her mouth so she can drink while his other hand slips down her belly, dipping between her thighs to toy with her clit until she's crying out a second release, quaking against him.

The motions of his hips grow erratic and he follows her soon after, gritting out a string of curses into the curve of her shoulder. She mutters out a protest when he pulls away but he's only reaching for the blankets, pulling them over their cooling bodies.

Caroline turns, pushing until Klaus is sprawled on his back and she's in much the same position as she'd awoken in even if her thighs are now sticky and still a little shaky. One of his hands finds its way into her hair and she fights the pleased little hum that wants to emerge at the pleasant tug.

"Not at full strength my ass," she grumbles as she relaxes against him.

Klaus' chest shakes underneath her with his laughter and Caroline can't even be mad at him. Not when she's pretty sure round two is imminent.

**More Than I Can Take**

**(#7 – Shower/Tub Sex. AH-AU in which Klaus is a choreographer and Caroline's a dancer. Title from "Someone Who Can Dance" by Icona Pop. SMUT).**

She's just started to relax – the jets of the tub and her favorite bubble bath working their magic on her sore muscles, the music coming from her earbuds soothing her frayed nerves. Caroline felt exactly zero guilt about storming out of rehearsal and the overbearing, demanding, _annoying_, choreographer her company had recently hired.

Klaus Mikaelson was awful and he's lucky she hadn't tossed a pointe shoe directly at his stupid face. The piece they were working on was short, meant to be performed at the company's annual showcase for their best patrons. It was a difficult one, intimate and physically demanding, full of lifts and while she trusted her partner, Enzo, implicitly having Klaus barking at her, breathing down her neck, touching her (to correct her form - like she needed it!) didn't make it any easier to perfect.

He seemed to think their chemistry was lacking, had muttered something under his breath about it being too bad that Bonnie was out with an injury since no one would buy that Caroline and Enzo wanted to have sex.

Which was exactly as much as Caroline could take without completely losing it and screaming at him in a very public room. She'd left to prevent that because dancers were the worst gossips and she really didn't want to deal with drama. She was a damn good dancer and she'd been working her ass off. Was a little acknowledgement of that too much to ask? Caroline didn't think so. But it was snide comments and constant criticism and disapproving pursed lips.

Maybe the chemistry wasn't perfect yet but they'd only been at it for two days. She and Enzo were pretty firmly just friends, and Bonnie was one of Caroline's favorite people, but they were _professionals_ and people would totally buy it once the kinks were worked out. Klaus just needed to be a little patient and let them work.

And stop pressing himself against her, attempting to demonstrate what he thought they _should_ be doing, because it was really freaking distracting.

His big hands on her stomach or dragging down her spine, his voice in her ear, all things that made it really hard to concentrate on Enzo on the steps.

_And_ were currently killing her attempts at relaxation.

Caroline presses her thighs together, wills the ache that's begun to build to fade away. But her brain is rebellious, easily conjuring the idea of his body behind her. She's memorized the feel of his chest against her back, the firm muscle evident behind the thin t-shirts he favors. She brings her hands up to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples and imagining Klaus' hands instead.

She takes her time, the goal _is_ relaxation, and a decent orgasm can't hurt. She's just letting her hand wander lower, slipping under the bubbles when the door to the bathroom flies open. Caroline shrieks, sinking under the water and snatching up a bottle of shampoo, lobbing it at the doorway.

"Ouch, love," the too familiar intruder complains, rubbing at his shoulder. "You've got quite an arm."

"Are you kidding me?" Caroline spits out groping for the bottle of conditioner. "What are you doing here? Get out!"

She aims for his head but he dodges. Unfortunately.

He holds up his hands, taking a step forward, "I just want to talk."

"I am _naked_. Hello, boundaries! How did you even get into my apartment? Why would you barge into my bathroom, you creep?"

His eyes drop and Caroline realizes that the bubbles aren't covering much so she lets out an indignant noise and crosses her arm over her breasts. Klaus' gaze snaps to her face and it's the first time she's ever seen him look anything but perfectly self-assured.

Klaus spins around, a hand coming up to run through his hair. "Enzo gave me your spare key, told me we needed to sort out our issues. Said that our tension was affecting his work."

"I'm going to freaking kill him," Caroline mutters darkly. She'd wait until after the showcase, of course. But Enzo was a dead man.

"But he has a point. Why don't you get out and we can talk things through?"

Caroline snorts, "Um, no thanks. You can march your ass out of my apartment. I'll talk to you tomorrow, at rehearsal. I'm busy."

Klaus chances a glance over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in intrigue, "Oh, really? And what's so pressing in that bathtub, sweetheart?"

She glowers at him and he merely smirks back, his confidence back in spades. "That," she says primly, bringing her knees up to her chest, "is really none of your business. Especially since I'm apparently lacking anything remotely resembling sex appeal. At least according to you."

His face creases in confusion, "I am certain I said nothing of the sort."

"Close enough," Caroline drawls resentfully. "And why haven't you left yet?"

He turns back around, crouching down next to the tub. Caroline shifts back suspiciously, "Caroline. You're a brilliant dancer. It's why I selected you for this piece. And you're completely insane if you think I am blind to the fact that you're gorgeous. I'm honestly ashamed of how much my hands linger but I can't seem to help it."

She blinks at him, mouth falling open in shock. "Um, what?"

He rolls his eyes, "I fancy you. How have you not noticed?"

Caroline's mind races attempting to process the new information. Enzo had been cracking constant jokes about how she and Klaus needed to fuck each other out of their systems but she'd brushed those off.

But maybe she shouldn't have. Caroline makes a split second decision, "Get in here," she demands.

It's Klaus' turn to be shocked. "Pardon me?" he sputters, eyes wide.

"Look, I was spinning a really good sexual fantasy before you interrupted me. The least you could do is help me make it a reality."

His hesitation doesn't last long before he's pushing himself to his feet his clothes rapidly hitting the bathroom floor. She leans forward to let Klaus can climb in behind her letting out a pleased hum when he pulls her back against his chest, his lips hot on her shoulder. "Were you thinking of me?" he asks, fingertips stroking her stomach.

Well, she hasn't gotten this far by being shy.

Caroline rakes her nails down Klaus' thigh, grins at his audible swallow. "Yep. I was touching myself imagining it was you. I was going for my clit when you came in. Which was super rude by the way."

"Allow me to acquit myself," Klaus says, low and edged in promise. Caroline spreads her thighs, lets her head tip back against his shoulder. She bites her lip as he parts her folds. One long finger finds her clit and traces it delicately.

Too delicately.

She grinds her ass back into his hardening cock, "If you're going to be a tease I can do it myself," she breathes out, reaching down to grab his wrist.

Klaus huffs out a laugh, nipping at the nape of her neck. "So impatient," he croons. But he slips a finger inside of her before she can say anything snippy in response and a moan emerges instead. "Good?" he asks, adding a second and dragging them out of her slowly.

Caroline nods frantically her hips rocking with the quickening thrusts of his fingers. Water's sloshing around the tub, and she can hear it splashing on the floor but she can't bring herself to care as his palm drags against her clit. Klaus hums against her skin, his free hand cupping her breast, thumb scraping roughly over her tight nipple. "I have to say I didn't imagine this, love. Perhaps I should have because you're lovely like this. Wet and flushed, your skin slick against mine."

She lifts her arm, clutching the edge of the tub, "Funny how that works out," Caroline manages. "You did always talk in mine."

She feels his lips stretch into a smile. "Noted. Shall I tell you the things I _have_ thought of?" Klaus doesn't wait for a reply and Caroline's not sure she'd have been able to formulate one. "Every time we're in a rehearsal room I think about fucking you in front of the mirrors. Using that perfect balance of yours and lifting your leg over my arm so you can watch my cock slide into you. I think about bending you over the barre constantly, peeling off your leotard and making you beg. I think about you on my desk in my tiny cramped office, your legs spread wide while I taste you and you try to stay quiet so no one will know what we're doing."

His words push her closer, her body clamping down on his fingers every time he retreats. Caroline cuts him off, twisting and reaching up to yank his mouth to hers, her other hand leaving its death grip on the tub to dive into the water. She rubs her clit frantically as she kisses him, cries out into his mouth as she comes. She fights to keep her eyes open as she shudders, wanting to remember how he's looking at her, the awe in his gaze making her wonder how she'd never picked up on it before.

Enzo was going to be such a dick about this later.

When she feels like she can string a coherent sentence together she clears her throat. She wants _more_, new flutters of arousal building while he continues to roll her nipple. "I have an IUD. Are you clean?" she asks.

Klaus gulps, a faint groan emerging when Caroline reaches behind her, her hand wrapping around his cock and pumping him slowly. He nods, and Caroline grins, brushing her lips over his as she maneuvers, shifting up so she can press him to her entrance and sinking back down with a sigh. The noise he makes is louder, strangled, and Caroline echoes it, settling back against him. She brings her knees up, resting her feet next to Klaus' calves on the bottom of the tub, giving herself the leverage she needs to rock against him. His hands span her hips, helping her move, and soon she's panting, straining for another release. "You feel incredible," Klaus rasps out, hand dropping between her thighs. It only takes a few passes, a quick pinch of her clit, and Caroline's muscles lock, her orgasm washing over her. "Fuck," he bites out, his frame tensing behind her. His arms tighten around her, and he quakes, burying his face in her neck.

His cock slips out of her but Caroline makes no move to get up, even if the water is growing cool. "So… this was unexpected," she ventures.

"Inevitable," Klaus corrects, his hands idly tracing her skin. "I was going to ask you out after the showcase."

"I would have said no," Caroline tells him, turning her head to look at him.

Klaus smirks, unbothered. "I suspect I would have been able to convince you. I have it on good authority that you think my hot body is such a waste since I'm such a… what was it? Oh, right. 'Douchebag.'"

Ugh, Caroline was totally adding Bonnie to her 'To Kill' list.

"I stand by that statement. And don't expect me to fawn all over you at work tomorrow. I'm not going to fall all over myself to bend to your every whim just because this happened."

His laughter shakes her body where they're still pressed together. "I'm not an idiot, Caroline. I expect nothing will change between us professionally. We'll just have working out our differences _unprofessionally_ to work forward to once we've left the studio."

Caroline found that she didn't hate that idea.

Caroline sits up and Klaus lets out an annoyed noise, trying to pull her back. Caroline slaps his hands away, stepping out of the tub and reaching for a towel. His disgruntled expression bleeds away and turns hungry his eyes raking over the skin she's not trying to cover. Caroline strives for a casual tone, finds it hard to fight the smile that wants to emerge. "Sex in the workplace? Probably not a good idea. But I do have a three-way mirror in my room. If you want to test out one of your fantasies for round two…"

Klaus practically leaps from the tub, a wave of water following him.

Caroline will have to tell him to clean that up. Later.


	49. Drabble Tuesday 06-28

**Notes: **Wrote some drabbles yesterday! I'm planning on really focusing on my multichapters stories in July/August so I thought I'd get some prompts out of the way. We've got 3 fluff ones and a smut one at the bottom. Enjoy and please tell me what you thought!

**Masterpiece**

**(Promt from goldcaught: kc + beach shenanigans! klaus building exceedingly elaborate sand art as a way to distract himself from eating annoying beach goers/ripping caroline's bikini off. Title from 'Cake by the Ocean' by DNCE. Rated T).**

"No," Caroline declares, in response to the nearly inaudible grumble Klaus had just made. There's screaming children about twenty feet away, splashing each other in the waves. He hadn't been happy that she'd insisted they venture out from their rented villa and its private slice of beach. "You cannot eat children, Klaus."

She's joking. Mostly. Kol had once told her that children were awful tasting. A conversation she really wished she could wipe from her memory.

Klaus makes another low noise of complaint and she fights not to roll her eyes. When Klaus wasn't happy he _really_ wasn't subtle.

Caroline adored their private space too – her tan was fantastic _and_ line free – but she craved something a little less quiet for a couple hours. Some quality people watching, listening to the hum of conversations around her. And some time spent around people wouldn't _kill_ Klaus. Plus, Caroline was kind of worried for the health of the handful of staff that kept the vacation house up and donated blood (willingly, but still). The cook in particular was a wizard and Caroline thought picking up a snack when they were out and about was the least they could do.

She feels Klaus' eyes on her but doesn't bother to open her own.

He'd been eyeing her white bikini – admittedly very small and purchased with temptation in mind, sue her – with hunger ever since she'd walked out of the bathroom with it on. She'd had to put a fair amount of effort into making herself walk away from him and going through with her plans for the day.

Not tackling Klaus and letting him do the filthy wonderful things those sex eyes promised had been a trial and Caroline patted herself on the back for her self-control. She liked the suit and did not want it shredded.

At least before she got to wear it for a couple of hours.

If she looked at him now she's sure he could convince her to move her timetable up and Caroline refused. Klaus was an expert at taking a mile and she would not give one single inch.

"How about compelling them to be silent?" Klaus wonders thoughtfully. "Perhaps show a little respect for their fellow beachgoers?"

Caroline snorts, rolling over and resting her head on her folded arms, "I somehow suspect your choice of words would be a little more terrifying."

Klaus ghosts a finger up the length of her spine, toying with the string at her back, "I've found terror to be a _very_ effective way of getting what I want."

"Yeah, hence why your minions are so squirrelly."

She's pretty impressed with herself with how evenly that had come out. Klaus' hands haven't left her skin, are tracing distracting shapes over the dip of her spine, dipping teasingly under her bikini bottom. If she tells him to stop he'll take it as a victory, and double his efforts in seducing her.

She needs to redirect him before she caves. Beach sex was usually a mistake. Sand chafed something awful, vampire healing or not.

Caroline cracks her eyes open, scanning the beach for something that would work. The kids are right in her line of sight, splashing each other with brightly colored pails.

And the idea that hits her is really kind of perfect. So simple, she can't believe it had never occurred to her before.

Sandcastles.

Klaus' artistic leanings plus obsessive attention to detail? He'd be into it if only she could convince him to give it a shot.

She pushes herself to her feet, dusting sand off her calves. Klaus' brows furrow questioningly, a hint of triumph in his smirk as he looks up at her. He thinks he's won and begins to rise, but Caroline shakes her head, "Nope. I said until dinner and we're staying. But there's something I need and this suit doesn't exactly have pockets. Can I borrow your wallet?"

Klaus' settles back on his towel, expression shifting back into mild annoyance. But he obligingly hands the wallet over, not that she'd expected him to protest. Klaus had a ridiculous amount of money and no qualms about her spending it. She'd been awkward about it thirty years ago, insisted on paying for her own meals, when he'd first shown back up in her orbit. But that had faded with time and Klaus' casualness about the topic.

"Thanks!" she chirps. "Be right back!"

Caroline spins on her heel before Klaus can press for an explanation, heading in the direction of the few shops. It doesn't take her long to find what she needs, the sales clerk is very helpful (and Caroline's glad that Klaus hadn't followed her because he would not have appreciated the poor kid's fascination with her boobs) and she's soon back out in the sunshine.

Klaus has reclined back onto the towel, dark sunglasses covering his face. Caroline slows as she approaches, doing a little ogling of her own. As much as she likes Klaus naked, the navy trunks are worthy of appreciation too, clingy and cut just below hipbones that she's planning on licking later.

He pushes the glasses up as she nears, amused and smug like he knows what she was thinking. And maybe he does, because her bikini's probably not doing much to hide how her body's reacted to her mildly dirty musings.

Klaus sits up, surveys the things she's bought with mild distaste. "_That's_ what you needed?"

Caroline grins, "Yep! Fun fact: once upon a time I was awesome at sandcastles. Won a contest with my dad on a family vacay when I was seven. Seeing those kids reminded me and I thought I'd see if I've still got it. Wanna help?"

Technically she'd come in second. But that hadn't been her fault. Her dad hadn't packed the sand for one of the towers well enough and it had crumbled. They'd deserved the win on both artistic merit and general ambition though. Plus, Klaus was a big fan of stretching the truth so what was the harm in the lie?

"Not particularly," Klaus tells her, laying back once more.

Caroline laughs, kneeling next to him in the sand. "Let me rephrase. If you help we can skip dinner at the restaurant I wanted to go to and go back to the villa. If you don't than I think I'm going to feel like dancing. All night long. And then I'll be so tired that I'll go right to sleep."

Such a lie and they both know it.

But it gets his attention. Klaus' eyes narrow but he reaches for one of the buckets, examining it carefully. "You play dirty, love."

Caroline bites her lip to hide another smile, leaning over to begin digging. Kind of proving Klaus' point, since her top isn't exactly supportive and he definitely notices and is soon right next to her, shooting evil looks at anyone who wanders too close.

It turns out she's a genius, or maybe she just knows Klaus by now. Not an hour later he's absorbed in the task, has even made a trip back to the shops for more tools (nothing she'd bought would make a suitable turret apparently) and he barely even notices when Caroline retreats to her towel and brings out the book she'd brought.

He works for hours, until the sun sets and the castle is huge and gorgeous with painstaking details. People stop by to marvel at it as they're leaving and she can tell Klaus is pleased though he'd never admit it. Though, to be fair, she'd bet Klaus had been in more than his fair share of actual castles so he has a bit of an unfair advantage over your average sandcastle maker.

She takes a picture before they go, and it makes it into a scrapbook when they get home. It's eventually joined by another. And another, each managing to be more elaborate and beautiful. Klaus begins to bring his own tools. Even _makes_ a couple.

One of these days she's going to convince Klaus to enter a contest. They'd totally win.

**Can't Let It Go**

**(Prompt from candicemorgan: kc + "you're my professor &amp; u have this intricate tattoo poking out of your shirt but i can't tell what it is, so after a few weeks it finally drives me insane to ask about it &amp; u tell me you'll explain it at the end of the semester if i get an A" au. Title From 'In The Light' by The Lumineers. Rated K+).**

The problem, Caroline had decided, was that he just didn't seem like the type. _That's_ why she was fixated.

Klaus Mikaelson refused to fit into the neat little box she'd built for him in her mind and that was annoying. Caroline was an excellent judge of character. Always had been, thank you very much. And she _hated_ being wrong.

Almost as much as she hated admitting that she might be wrong.

It was Klaus' first year teaching, but Caroline had known that before she'd even set foot in the room (he had zero entries on ratemyprofessors which had made her a little leery). He'd told them as much during the first class. All wry smiles and dimples, amused and self-deprecating, joking that the school was giving him a trial run and he'd appreciate it if they were gentle with him. She'd never been the lust after the teacher type, far too focused and intent on proving herself, but she'd be lying if she said Professor Mikaelson didn't do it for her.

Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the crisp shirts and well fitted pants. Why he bothered for a summer class that met from 6-9 on Mondays and Wednesdays, when most of her other professors weren't willing to put in nearly as much effort into looking put together in the daytime during the regular semesters, Caroline didn't know. But she wasn't going to complain. Not when his ass looked like that and the thin cotton button ups hinted at some truly excellent shoulders.

Hey, she wasn't exactly pleased to be doing summer classes but it was a necessary evil. Any little nugget of joy she could find helped. It's not like she was _planning_ on making a move on her professor.

That first day she'd only half listened to his intro, just paying enough attention to get the pertinent details so she could online stalk him later, make sure there was nothing sketchy she could find. He'd given them the basics – told them he'd been working steadily since completing his MBA, for a massive global corporation (omitting the fact that it had been his family's), but had desired a break from that world and so had decided to try his hand at teaching.

Later she'd read that his resignation from the company was abrupt. It had raised some eyebrows, left some bloggers baffled and tossing insane theories about. She devoured them (because knowledge was power) buy dismissed most of them easily. He pretty clearly wasn't in rehab, or under an FBI investigation if he was teaching, and if he'd knocked up his secretary that wasn't really her business, was it? Something like that wouldn't affect her grade.

She'd given up speculating and accepted that whatever the reasons he'd ended up behind the lectern of her Global Marketing class she'd probably never know it. She needed the class so she had no choice but to roll with it if she was going to manage to graduate a semester early.

She'd pegged him as a trust fund baby, guessed that daddy was mad about something and he was living out a punishment – exile in a tiny college town. Caroline had assumed Klaus was like the many rich guys she'd encountered at school (aka _the worst_). It was the price she paid for a top notch education – mansplaining douchebags everywhere. He'd be the type with an overly high opinion of himself (and his intellect) with a steadfast general belief that the world was blessed simply because he was a part of it.

Caroline had been resigned to being bored out of her mind, sure that he'd pepper his lectures with self-aggrandizing anecdotes about that time he'd saved the big deal and made the company oodles of money all by his lonesome. Told herself she'd have to restrain the eye rolls, and perfect her interested face, because that breed of guy was usually petty and she'd like her GPA to stay flawless. Comforted herself with the fact that he was at least enjoyable to look at if she was forced to waste perfectly lovely summer evenings listening to him speak.

But he'd kind of surprised her.

His lectures were actually good. Interesting and engaging without the super cluttered power point accompaniments that were the bane of Caroline's existence (ugh, if you couldn't make your point in under twenty slides you were totally doing it wrong!). He _did_ tell stories but they actually managed to be relevant. Occasionally even funny. He encouraged discussion, added things to get the ball rolling and didn't mind being argued with. By the end of the fourth class she was actually looking _forward_ to the next week. Found herself moving several rows up and participating with enthusiasm.

And maybe studying him a little more closely than she should have.

Finding things that just seemed _off_.

His clothes remained the same but relaxed the slightest bit. One day the shirt collar was a little more open, an extra button undone, and Caroline spied leather cords, beads. She spent the rest of the class trying to get a closer look only belatedly realizing that she was barely taking any notes and probably being super creepy.

She'd noticed a classmate or two lingering after the lectures were done, saw through the coy smiles and hair tosses and she did not want Professor Mikaelson to think she was perving on him.

Even if she was.

It's not like she could control her dreams, okay? And if the necklaces were a little enriching, played heavily in a few, no one would ever know except her.

He'd caught her eye during that class, lifted a questioning eyebrow. Caroline had hurriedly looked away, counting to ten before sneaking another peek. Only to find him still watching her, an expression she couldn't quantify on his face. He'd smiled, small and almost _private_, before smoothly interjecting a question into the debate.

It was the first time she'd felt like he'd really _seen_ her (even if he was excellent at remembering names and called on her occasionally). But it wasn't the last. His lips twitched when she rolled her eyes at a classmate's particularly dumb argument. He called on her when she was dying to interrupt and say something. Wished her goodnight when she walked past him on the way out of class.

All very confusing and not great for her mental state, her continuous efforts to avoid a serious crush.

Caroline flat out _refused_ to call it such a thing, told herself she was just trying to work him out. Professors weren't robots and she wasn't above tailoring her assignment style to their particular likes and dislikes in an effort to get the best results. So many things just seemed weird, she rationalized, trying to justify her preoccupation. The necklaces were a style choice a go getting corporate drone type wouldn't make and it bugged her.

Caroline was fond of her boxes. They kept things neat and tidy and organized. Finding her professor hot was one thing, finding him intriguing was another. A thing she did not want to deal with.

And then the broken air conditioning incident had happened.

The classroom had been sweltering, all the windows thrown wide but not a hint of breeze to be found. The twenty or so students who'd bothered to show up had stripped down to the bare minimum of clothing, were all flushed and damp with sweat. Caroline had a pencil shoved through a messy bun holding her hair off her neck (because _of course_ her single hairband had snapped) and was fanning herself with a notebook while longingly thinking of popsicles when it had happened.

Professor Mikaelson (who had long since told them to call them Klaus but Caroline refrained, even inside her own head, to remind herself that he was 1000% _off limits_) wasn't in a much better state and looked miserable as he plowed through the material, his hair curling about his ears and neck more than usual.

She'd been idly thinking about what he'd do if she ran her hands through it, what he could be doing to her while she did it, when he'd rolled up his sleeves.

Not something he'd ever done before (and Caroline totally would have noticed) and she'd watched him do it with great interest (men got more attractive when they did the rolled up sleeve thing. It was practically a scientific fact) blinking in surprise when he revealed more than just skin.

Ink. Black. A major tattoo, beginning halfway down his forearm, she could just see the edges of it when he was done.

Yet another big fat hole blown in Caroline's preconceptions about who Klaus was.

And her traitorous brain (and okay, fine, more than her brain) wanted to see more. Caroline wanted to touch so badly that her hands twitched and she had to clamp them around the edge of her chair.

There was no way she could deny it any longer. She totally had a thing for her professor.

She'd wanted to flee, to leave the classroom so she could have a private freak out. But that would have been strange, noticeable and suspicious, and she did not want to worry him, give him a reason to approach her.

She could just imagine how obvious she'd be with the realization fresh. And that would have been mortifying.

Luckily, class was almost done when she'd had her epiphany. Which meant that she had just over two weeks, four classes and a final, before she'd be free. Caroline could handle that. She'd keep her head down and finish the class. She was set to graduate in January, surely she could avoid Professor Mikaelson until then? And _not_ make a fool of herself by being awkward in his presence?

At least that's what she'd told herself sitting in that muggy classroom. They'd been dismissed early and Caroline had never been so grateful, had been the first person out the door keeping her eyes averted from Klaus and speed walking past him.

And now, not two days later, she's cursing herself for ever believing in luck. She was so hoping for an easy shift.

Of all the gin joints, in all the world, he just _had_ to walk into hers.

Looking even better than ever in a grey Henley and well-worn jeans, the necklaces clearly visible and tempting her to study them more closely.

Caroline forces a smile, resists the urge to adjust her top so that it covers more. It was purposefully tight and cleavage baring, designed to help her rake in the tips at her part time bartending job. The bar's not too far from campus and she's seen a professor or two hear before. But never one she was into and never one who's drinking companion apparently had no qualms about leering at her boobs. "What can I get you?" she asked, blandly polite.

Klaus opens his mouth to reply but the other man beats him to it, leaning over the bar with a smile that he probably thinks is charming in place. "Your name, for starters, darling."

"Not on the menu," Caroline shoots back. "We've got just about everything you can think of booze wise and killer burgers though."

"Hmm, mouthy _and_ gorgeous? A delightful combination."

"So glad you think so," Caroline tells him flatly. She's never had a lot of patience for men who are pushy while she's trying to work. Luckily her boss is cool with it. "Now, what can I get you to _drink_?"

"Bourbon, neat," Klaus tells her, before the other man can answer. "And I apologize for my brother, love."

She's pouring the drinks automatically, has barely processed the 'brother' part (and the fact that learning more personal details about a crush she was intent on burying was so not a good idea) when said brother is speaking again, "Rude, Nik. I was perfectly complimentary. Do you know this lovely lady?"

He says yes just as Caroline says no.

The brother looks thrilled, letting out a loud laugh and looking between the two of them with great interest.

"He teaches my class," Caroline says, even as she kicks herself for adding fuel to this fire. "We don't _know_ each other."

If anything, his glee grows. "A _student_? I cannot wait to tell Bekah."

"Don't you dare," Klaus grits out, expression hardening.

But the brother is already pulling out a phone, tapping away at the screen, seemingly unperturbed by the clear threat in Klaus' tone. "Sorry, brother. I'm afraid this is just too good to resist. And I thought your life would have gotten dull out here. A student, how scandalous. Please tell me you're in your first year."

"Um, no. I'm graduating this year."

He makes a face, "Pity."

Klaus makes an aggrieved noise and pulls out his wallet. He tosses a twenty on the bar for the drinks they hadn't touched and yanks his brother away. "I'll see you in class, Caroline," thrown over his shoulder.

She watches him go, mouth agape. It's looking like her grand plan of avoidance and playing it cool has just gone up in smoke and Caroline can't help but feel a twinge of dread.

She's going to dwell _all_ weekend and it's going to be awful.

**My Bones Shake**

**(Prompt from themikaelsoncupcake: "We decided to take a trip in a hot air balloon and we just got stuck in a tree and I'm scared of heights please don't leave me here" AU but could you make it with Klaus as the one being afraid of heights please. Title from 'I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe' by OK Go. Rated K+).**

She was going to _kill_ Kol.

He'd been badgering her forever, trying to convince Caroline to bend her strict no set ups policy (been there, done that, didn't talk to Elena for a solid three weeks) and go out with his brother. She'd met Klaus exactly twice – once in passing at Kol's office and again at Kol's last birthday party. She'd remembered thinking he was hot the first time, if not her usual type. And her memories of the second are fuzzy, Kol having plied her with an awful lot of shots.

But it must have been memorable to him since Klaus had apparently all but promised his first born child to Kol to persuade him to try to get Caroline to go out with him. Kol had talked Klaus up incessantly, at every conversation, and Caroline had finally caved. One date wouldn't hurt anything and Klaus _was_ attractive. Plus, according to Kol he was successful and 'the least dull of my brothers.' Not exactly a glowing recommendation but Caroline had been spending an awful lot of evenings in lately and was totally open to changing that sad state of affairs.

Had she known it would turn out this badly she maybe would have chosen to put up with Kol's badgering.

She has no idea why Klaus had bothered to set this up if he wasn't going to _talk_ to her. He's staring out at the scenery, fingers clutching the side of the basket, like he has been the _entire_ time. Caroline might as well be invisible.

She heaves a sigh, loud and aggravated, and he barely twitches. Caroline rolls her eyes, and turns away. Kol had planned this whole thing, insisting that it was the least he could do, and had driven her crazy by offering only the tiniest hints about what they'd be doing. ('What am I supposed to _wear_?' 'Clothes? Leave a little mystery for the second date, darling. Nik's easy but not _that_ easy.' '_Kol_!' 'Ouch, fine. Something casual. Trousers. It'll be a bit breezy.') She'd been shocked and a little nervous when she'd arrived and seen the hot air balloon.

Klaus had seemed tense when he'd stepped out of his SUV, had offered her a tight smile before making a beeline for the operator. Caroline had approached, heard Klaus' low voiced questions about licensing and safety, and the kindly looking older man's affable answers.

The man had smiled at her, offered his hand. Introduced himself as Martin. "The wind's perfect. Shall we?" he'd said, gesturing to the basket. Caroline had gulped, but she had never been a coward. Klaus had climbed in first, movements stiff and jerky (maybe he didn't like surprises either? At least they had that in common). She'd been careful as she'd followed, silently applauding herself for actually listening to Kol's advice and wearing jeans because climbing in using the footholds would have been super awkward and revealing otherwise.

She'd stumbled slightly once she was in, and Klaus had steadied her, palms warm on her waist.

He'd smelled incredible, she'd noted. No cloying cologne or excessive hair product. Another point in his favor. Caroline had smiled and thanked him, let her hands linger on his chest. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. I…"

His words died when he looked behind her and Caroline had followed his sightline only to immediately flush when she'd seen Martin (at least thirty years older than she was) nimbly climb in after them, having untied the balloon's tethers.

"And I'm clearly the least graceful person here," she'd joked, turning back to Klaus.

Klaus had managed a smile, kind of a weak one, and she'd thought he'd been about to reply but the balloon had lurched, and they'd bumped into the side struggling to find their balance. He'd fallen silent, and turned to look out. And he'd _stayed_ silent, seemingly finding the views (and okay, they were pretty) far more interesting than her.

It was super awkward and Caroline wasn't the only one feeling it if Martin's attempts to fill the silence – pointing out landmarks or talking about the history of ballooning – were anything to go by. Caroline tries to listen attentively because at least _someone_ in this wicker basket was trying to entertain her, but her eyes keep drifting to Klaus.

Seriously, what was his problem?

Martin's voice drifts off and he begins to fuss with the boiler. Caroline feels like it's gotten colder, and she wraps her arms around herself, wishing she'd worn something a little warmer. The movement catches Klaus' attention and he frowns before shrugging out of his own leather jacket and draping it over her shoulders.

"Take it. You're shivering."

The polite thing to do would be to thank him.

But Caroline's politeness quota has totally been expended already today.

"Gee, thanks," she tells him, all barbed sweetness and venom. "_Such_ a gentleman. You really know how to show a girl a good time."

He looks pained, swallowing thickly. "Caroline…"

"And he speaks."

Something sparks in his eyes, maybe an answering surge of temper, and he straightens, turning towards her. But whatever he's about to say is cut off by a gust of wind. The basket lurches and they're both left scrabbling for a hold to keep their balance.

"Sorry!" Martin calls. "The wind's really picked up! Hold on while I take us down."

"Awesome," Caroline mutters. "Such a perfect ending."

The motions of the basket roughen and she avoids looking at the ground. Her eyes land on Klaus, his white knuckled grip, and his face, strained and really, really pale.

"Wait, are you afraid of heights?" she asks incredulously, the puzzle pieces suddenly painting a clearer picture.

"Just a bit," he answers, the words pushed out, his jaw clenched tight.

Caroline can't help but laugh, "And Kol _totally_ knew, didn't he?"

"It's not a new fear."

"I thought this set up was a bit too altruistic to be his usual style."

Klaus doesn't seem to share her amusement, "I've been trying to work out the best way to kill him."

She's about to make a suggestion, something slow and painful because Kol deserves it, when they veer sharply to one side and Martin lets out a string of curses. "Hold on," he shouts and there's a sharpness there, a tinge of alarm, that has Caroline hitting the deck, yanking Klaus down with her.

Turns out she has a knack for this whole hot air ballooning thing because she'd totally saved them from getting faces full of pine needles when they careen into a tree. Caroline closes her eyes, tucking her face into Klaus' shoulder as they're jostled for several agonizingly long moments.

Finally, they stop, seem to settle and Caroline cautiously lifts her head.

Klaus had wrapped an arm around her when they'd gone down, and he touches her face when she looks up, "Are you okay?"

"Good. I'm good," Caroline manages, wide eyed and breathless from the shock. Her heart's pounding and Klaus is breathing quickly, his hand shaking slightly. "Are you…"

They moment's broken before Caroline can ask how he is, Nathan crawling over and apologizing profusely. "I am so sorry. I've never had a wind come out of nowhere like that. It brought us down hard."

"But we _are_ down?" Klaus asks, clearing his throat.

"Mostly. A bit wedged between two trees but it isn't more than a four foot drop. I'll call my partner, have him pick you two up and run you back to your vehicles. There will, of course, be no charge."

Caroline grins, catching Klaus' eye. "Actually, you know what? That's not necessary. Klaus' brother was footing the bill and he totally deserves to pay for attempting to orchestrate a disaster. Maybe not one this dramatic but there were some serious bad intentions."

A small smirk plays about the corner of Klaus' mouth as he stands. "Attempting? Does that mean he failed?" He offers her his hand and Caroline takes it, letting him help her to her feet.

Maybe they can salvage this date after all.

"That remains to be seen," Caroline declares leaning over the side to try and judge the best way to get down.

"How might I acquit myself?" Klaus asks, his eyes trained on her face.

Caroline pretends to think about it. "Once we're on solid ground you can ask me to dinner."

"Gladly," he murmurs. "And then?"

"Then I guess we'll see if you actually have anything interesting to say."

He smiles, a glint in his eye that she's not entirely certain what to make of. Caroline wonders if she's thrown a gauntlet she shouldn't have when he drawls, "Challenge accepted, sweetheart."

**We Like To Label**

**(Prompt from an Anon: Hey, could you do prompt 9? Maybe she's in Whitmore still and he's in NOLA being King and they've been chatting friendly until one night they're talking about dates and she mumbles something about the college guys aren't great in bed for a vampire and hasn't had a decent orgasm since the woods. Title from 'Call It What You Want' by Foster The People' SMUT).**

She's juggling her books, and the pizza she'd picked up before leaving Whitmore, struggling with front the door when her phone starts ringing. She's half tempted to break it (because it _always_ sticks) but she knows her mom will be pissed. Caroline nudges it with her shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief when it _finally_ opens.

She really needs to find someone to fix that. Tossing the pizza on the hallway table and letting her bag drop she digs her cell out of her back pocket, noting that it's Klaus with some surprise. It's after 1 AM and such a late call could very well mean something not good. She's unable to keep the worry from her voice when she answers, "Hello?"

"Evening, love."

Well, at least _that_ didn't sound like life and death.

Caroline huffs, bends to pick up her bag, tucking her phone into her shoulder and grabbing the pizza too. "Can I help you with something? It's late and I'm busy."

A lie. She'd planned to do absolutely nothing and see absolutely no one this weekend. The dorms were working her last nerve (all those people, all that noise, the smells…) and her the lack of appealing social prospects was downright depressing. Caroline had _tried_, gotten all dressed up to go to a party had found a cute boy who'd been reasonably amusing. She'd let him press her against a wall but he'd kissed like a particularly enthusiastic puppy, all tongue and saliva with no finesse. Had gone right for her bra without even asking. She'd tried to get into it, attempted to close her eyes and let her imagination do the work but his cologne was cheap and acrid, his build too tall, the angles all wrong.

She'd given up, pushed him away.

At least she'd gotten a snack out of the deal.

She'd compelled him to go sleep off the beer and the blood loss, and had stalked home practically vibrating with frustration. Only to be greeted with sex noises coming from Elena's room that she really wished she could brain bleach away from her memories. Caroline had vamp sped around the her room to gather up her studying materials and had been back out of the hallway in under thirty seconds, in her car leaving campus a few minutes later.

She'd sent Elena and Bonnie a text telling them she was going to hang out in Mystic Falls for the weekend, on the off chance that they'd notice she was gone.

The comfort of the house she'd grown up in, some solitude and junk food, had been the only balm she could think of to deal with her overall dissatisfaction with life.

At least it had the added bonus of some actual privacy for some quality alone time to work out the lingering frustrations. Her vibrator remains hidden in her bedside table in her mom's house. Caroline's very aware that Elena's a vampire, with heightened senses, and the idea of her overhearing, knowing _exactly_ what Caroline's up to, is kind of mortifying.

But that's not what she needs to be thinking about right now.

"And I apologize for interrupting," Klaus tells her smoothly. "But I'm afraid I have a bit of a situation."

Caroline stills, her unease flooding back, "Are you okay?"

He lets out a soft hum, and there's a distinct note of pleasure in his reply, warmth that she knows is due to her concern, the way she'd expressed it without reservation. "I'm fine. But we've hit a snag with Kol's predicament and I believe I left something in Mystic Falls that might help."

Her relief is short lived and Caroline groans, "And let me guess, you want me to play errand girl?"

Klaus seems conciliatory, almost hesitant. "I know it a bit out of your way, and there's no need for you to do it _right_ this moment but I thought perhaps you might like to visit your mother this weekend? Stop by my house while you're there…"

She sighs, "Not out of my way. I'm at my mom's right now. She's in Richmond though."

There's a pause, and she hears the creak of leather, pictures Klaus settling in. His next question is filled with curiosity, "Whitmore's not exactly London I know but surely it has better options than Mystic Falls on a Friday night? Why are you not taking advantage of them? Isn't that part of the college experience you desired?"

She fumbles and the pizza hits the floor. It's the most blatant reference to what had happened the last time Klaus was in Mystic Falls that he'd ever made and they've been talking regularly for months.

Klaus had kept his word, made no attempts to contact her even though Caroline is almost positive he keeps tabs. Things had just gotten to be way too much at the end of the last school year. Bonnie's death, Elena going off the rails, Stefan disappearing. Alaric had been looking to Caroline for how to vampire tips and she'd been knee deep in research about boundary spells that had seemed to go in circles. So she'd run, promising herself that it would just be for a little while, a tiny break. Told her mom and ditched her cell phone, hopped on a plane and ended up in London.

She'd thrown herself into the city, devoured guidebooks and talked to anyone who was willing and crossed her path, found spots that locals loved and tourists would be hard pressed to find. Pubs, museums, restaurants, monuments. A whole new world and she'd adored it.

On her last night she'd compelled herself a ridiculously fancy hotel room with an insane view of the city. Got herself a bottle of champagne and the priciest thing on the room service menu. And she'd called Klaus.

She hadn't been able to stop herself, had made the call before she could talk herself down.

He'd been surprised to hear from her, shock obvious when he'd answered. She'd told him where she was, what she'd been doing. The reasons behind it all.

A teeny part of her had been hoping he'd say something perfect and tempting, convince her to keep going, to leave Mystic Falls behind and _finally_ see the world.

But he hadn't, had patiently listened to her ramble about what had driven her away from home, all the stress and pressure she felt, how afraid she was that she couldn't _fix_ anything. And when she was spent, hands twisting in her robe as she'd waited for his reply, he'd lithely informed Caroline that her fears were nonsense, that he'd always bet on her and her stubbornness, and that he might have a suggestion or two.

Klaus was well versed in Traveller magic apparently. Told her he'd studied up because of Katherine, learned everything he could so she'd have none of her ancestors cards to play. Caroline had kicked herself for not thinking of that before.

It had taken her less than a month to break down the spell that kept vampires out of Mystic Falls with Klaus' long distance help. And she'd quickly turned her attention to Bonnie's predicament but Bon had managed yet another feat of badassery and had managed to bust herself and Damon out, shattering an entire prison world in the process.

And then things had returned to normal-ish. With the addition of occasional phone conversations with Klaus.

But no one knew about those.

Klaus is waiting patiently for her answer, she can hear the occasional clink of ice in a glass. She aims for casual, "Ever been to a frat party, Klaus? Trust me, they're overrated."

"I have actually. And I see your point."

Caroline takes a second to picture that, "Seriously? How many people died?"

He laughs quietly, "You know, I didn't count."

She'd not sure if he's joking or not, decides not to press. "Anyway, since I clearly have no life I'd be delighted to go break into your giant house. I'm totally going to snoop, by the way."

The threat doesn't seem to scare him. "Be my guest, sweetheart."

* * *

Half an hour later she's breaking in the door (with Klaus' permission), flashlight in one hand, phone in the other waiting for her call to connect. He said he'd disabled the security system and that she should have no trouble with the magical protections on the place (concerning, but she'd decided to trust him). Looking around Caroline thinks that she maybe should have asked Klaus if his place was haunted, because it's super creepy, cavernous and echoing with white sheets draped over the furniture. It's fairly clean, no visible dust or grime, and she assumes he has someone in to clean occasionally.

She doesn't wait for him to greet her when he picks up, "Okay so I am well aware that ghosts are totally a thing but please tell me that there's no unfriendly types lingering around your house. I can deal with a Caspar but my week has been way too terrible for a Bloody Mary."

"You're perfectly safe, love. I promise."

It's a true testament to how far they've come that she believes him.

"Well, I'm in. Which way am I going?"

"Upstairs. My bedroom."

_That_ gives her pause and she almost runs into a sofa, bites her tongue to keep from yelping.

If Klaus noticed her momentary lack of grace he makes no comment. "Third floor, the first door on the right. In my closet. You'll have to tear up the carpet."

"Never leave home without my trusty Swiss army knife," Caroline mutters, mounting the stairs. "I was super unimpressed with it on my thirteenth birthday but I have to admit it's come in handy."

"From your mother, I'm guessing?"

"Nope, my dad. My mother got me pepper spray the year before. It took my dad longer to catch on to my discovery of boys since he was gone."

Caroline picks up the pace, deciding that anticipation will only make her feel more awkward. It's just a bedroom, she tells herself. Klaus isn't even _in_ it. He's not even in the freaking state. The door's cracked and she pushes it wider, walking in and looking around curiously. It's huge, which she'd expected, taking up half of the level. More open than she'd have thought with big windows and a small terrace that looks out over the back of the property. The bedframe is draped in white and she peeks under the sheets. Is surprised that the frame's metal because she would have bet a pretty penny on wood.

"Snooping already, love? Wouldn't waiting until I'd hung up be more polite?"

It's pointed, more amused than anything, so Caroline doesn't feel bad about continuing her inspection of the room. "Your exact words were, 'be my guest,' and I took you seriously. Your bed is ginormous by the way and I really don't want to know why."

"I like my space."

Caroline snorts in disbelief, a vivid memory of how he'd wrapped himself around her in her clear mind, "Oh really? I remember you being really into snuggling."

"I wanted you to smell like me," he tells her, not a hint of shame in his tone. "For it to linger, for you to _remember_ me."

Her breath stutters out, her hand dropping from the sheet. "That's kind of the problem," Caroline blurts out, closing her eyes as soon as the words are out.

God, she shouldn't have said that.

"What does that mean, Caroline?" Klaus asks. He's no longer playful, the words firm and she knows he'll push now that he's gotten something that _big_ from her. He's taken what she's offered, done an excellent job at being her friend, if she's being honest. But she's always known that he'd never be content with _just_ that. That Klaus played a long game and that he'd _absorbed_ everything she'd ever said to him.

He'd shown her that she could trust him.

She considers how to answer, how to phrase what she means delicately. But she's never really bothered to be careful with Klaus so why start now?

Her confession comes out in a rush, "It means that the only decent orgasms I've had in the last year have been, uh… self-induced. And heavily influenced by certain _memories_."

Klaus is silent for a long moment, and Caroline listens to his breathing, holding her own as she waits for his response. "Of me," he finally rumbles, low and so very satisfied. It's _not_ a question.

"Of us," she corrects, just to be contrary. Because she's never been the lie back and let a guy do all the work kind of girl and she totally deserved _some_ credit for how mind blowingly good they'd been together.

She's about to crack a joke, get on with the business Klaus had asked for her help with (she did owe him one – more than one, really), do something to alleviate the odd tension that's sprung up. Klaus is more than a thousand miles away but the silence is so fraught, her heart beating wildly and her skin prickling in anticipation.

Of what she doesn't really know.

But Klaus evidently has some very clear ideas. She shudders when he speaks again, honey slow and gravelly, and she remembers what it had felt like to have him pressed against her, his voice in her ear and all of his skin hot against hers. "It must be so maddening, sweetheart. Tell me, did you go looking for relief at that party that sent you running for home? A way to relieve the _need_, just for a moment?"

This is edging somewhere dangerous and it will probably only make things worse. Caroline finds she doesn't care. She turns and leans against the bed, just in case the slight wobble of her knees gets more intense, presses her thighs together and holds back a moan.

It's so unfair that he can do this to her, that a few words can leave her so needy. She's dying to touch herself and they've barely begun. Clenching one hand around the edge of the mattress and using the other to grip the phone she swallows hard before responding, "I tried. Didn't work out so well but the blood was pretty good."

"What was his name?" Klaus demands softly.

"I have no idea."

"Good," he murmurs and she'll never admit that the possessiveness turns her on. "Are you on my bed, love?"

She licks her lips, barely recognizing her own voice when it comes out teasing and husky, "I wouldn't say _on_…"

"Would you like to be? I can't touch you, but that doesn't mean I can't help you with your _frustrations_. It would be my pleasure."

Her body's completely on board, nipples tight behind the lace of her bra, and she knows if she reached under her skirt she'd find her panties damp. Her mind wavers, weighing the idea of finally being able to concentrate, at least for a little while, against the possibility that just doing this once won't be enough. Because she has no doubt that Klaus will excel at phone sex. The voice alone gives him an edge.

It's a risk she's willing to take.

Caroline kicks off her shoes, and gets up, tearing away the bed's coverings. She piles the pillows up against the headboard, and makes herself comfortable. Finds herself wishing that the sheets smelled like Klaus, and not just his fabric softener.

"Comfortable?" he asks, deceptively innocent. She hadn't tried to hide what she'd been doing, and Klaus was more than smart enough to put the pieces together.

"It's a pretty great bed," Caroline tells him, letting her hand wander under her top, stroking her skin softly with a sigh.

"I liked it. Pity you'd never have lain in it when I was there. I find my imagination somewhat lacking."

It's a broad hint, completely unsubtle. Caroline thinks about mocking him but she likes that he's not trying too hard to be smooth. That he desires her enough to be upfront about it. Too many boys have made her jump through hoops before they'd admit to a shred of affection. A little certainty that she's what Klaus wants is welcome. She pulls her hair out of its topknot, discards her shirt over the side of the bed before taking a picture, her hair spread out on his pillows, the black lace of her bra visible.

It's one of her favorites. A sign that some higher power had her back today.

"Lovely," he murmurs, and Caroline closes her eyes. "I am endlessly fascinated by your skin, love. The way it felt under my fingertips, how it tasted. Touch it for me."

She doesn't even think about not obeying, running her hand over her stomach, and between her breasts, letting her palm brush over her nipple. She arches her back to get more contact, legs shifting restlessly.

"Are you warm, sweetheart? Is your skin prickling, hungry for more?"

Her yes is almost a moan, a hand cupping her breast as the other wanders lower.

"Take everything off, Caroline," Klaus grits out, and she hears rustling on the other end of the phone.

They're really going to do this.

"Are you?" she asks, sitting up slightly and shimmying out of her skirt and panties. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room, impulsively snaps another photo and sending it. It's blurry, more suggestive than revealing, her flushed skin contrasting with the dark sheets she's spread out on.

Klaus groans, and Caroline grins, putting the phone on speaker and hurriedly discarding her bra.

"Are you going to touch yourself too, Klaus? For me?" she taunts, letting her hand delve between her thighs. She gasps as she parts her folds, fingers finding her clit, her next words strangled, "Have _your_ memories been giving you trouble?"

His affirmative is a hiss, her name a raspy warning. She imagines him on a couch, rich leather, body taught and straining, the cords of his neck pulled tight.

Pictures herself astride him, sinks two fingers inside of her clenching body and imagines it's his cock.

"Are you riding your fingers, love? Tell me, are you wishing it was my tongue? The sound of your voice begging for more is one of my favorite memories. Your thighs quivering under my hands."

Ugh. She spreads her legs wider, her heels digging into the bed as she speeds up the motions of her hand, just beginning to pant. That might have been one of her favorites too. Klaus could be a dirty tease, but he'd totally made it worth it in the end.

She finds herself shaking her head, forgetting for a moment that he can't see her. "No. I'm on top."

His laugh is rusty sounding, "You did like that, didn't you?"

"I liked everything," she tells him, too wound up to feel self-conscious about the admittance. It's building, the peak that's been so elusive lately, the muscles in her stomach drawn in, hips working frantically against her hand as she twists in Klaus' sheets.

"You're close, aren't you, Caroline? Right on the edge. I can hear it. The greedy little sighs you make. Use both of your hands," he urges her. "Rub your clit, love. Come. Let me hear it."

It only takes a few more seconds, frantic passes over her clit as she fucks herself, back arched high as she comes with a cry.

His breaths are heavy, and she can hear skin on skin, slow and slick. She _knows_ he's holding back.

That just won't do.

She's still coming down, tingling and swollen, clenching as the aftershocks ripple through her. She lets out a hiss as she brings her fingers back between her thighs, dipping inside until her finger's slick. She traces her clit gently, lets out a whimper. "I'm going to go again, Klaus. And you're going to come with me this time."

The noise he lets out is feral and harsh, almost a snarl. "Fuck, Caroline. Do it. I remember how sensitive you were. The noises you made as I licked you into a second climax. How you shifted under my mouth. Like you _needed_ more but weren't sure if you could handle it. But you did. You liked it. It hardly took any time at all."

She circles slowly, almost lazy, letting the sensations roll over her. "You bit me the second time. Just as I went over. I'd heard about what it felt like but…" her breath hitches, eyes rolling back into her head, thoughts fleeing because nothing's more important than what she feels right now.

Klaus groans, deep and desperate, and seems to stop breathing. Caroline lets go, lets a second wave wash over her. It's gentler than the first, but no less satisfying, and she stretches contentedly, letting out a pleased mumble.

It's probably the best she's felt in months.

"Feel better, love?" he questions, sounding every bit as blissed out as Caroline feels. She wishes she could see his face.

"Much," she says, fighting a yawn.

It really had been a long week.

"I need to find the thing," she mumbles, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Klaus shushes her, fond and soothing. "Later. Rest, love. Kol's not going anywhere. Those pages will still be there in the morning."

Caroline doesn't have the will to argue as she gropes for a blanket. Her last thought, before she drifts off to sleep, is that maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea if she delivered them in person.


	50. Shelter Me

**Notes: **Thank you for the reviews on the last batch! A continuation of the Professor!Klaus one was a popular request so it's been added to the sequel pile. Big thanks to Sophie for betaing this one!

**Shelter Me**

**(cupcakemolotov requested murder fluff. This happened. In which Caroline gets into a sticky situation with some witches. Title from the Ray LaMontagne song of the same name. Rated T).**

Caroline's lungs burned and her feet were a mess of bruises and cuts, her high heels discarded earlier when they hindered her escape.

There needed to be some kind of directory, a who's who of witches, werewolves and vampires in major metropolitan areas. Caroline was a damn good vampire, fed tidily and didn't kill, but there were some things she just didn't _know_.

That Patras was home to some seriously traditional witches – the kind that believed that the only good vampire was a dead vampire – was unfortunately one of them.

She'd gotten in yesterday morning, passed out as soon as her hotel room door was shut, full from the flight attendant she'd snacked on just before the seatbelt light had gone on. It had been dark when she'd woken up and once she'd thrown open the window she'd been able to hear faint strains of music, fast and heavy on the bass.

It had only taken Caroline a second to decide to start her tour of the city by checking out the nightlife.

Such a mistake.

She'd felt eyes on her the second she'd walked in, and not just because she'd looked good. They were cold, assessing, _hateful_. Had left her skin crawling and her stomach churning. She'd held out for half a song before her instincts screamed at her to leave.

She'd listened, found an exit, was almost through it when a hand had clamped around her arm. She'd tried to shake it off, had been dismayed when it would not budge. Particularly because the man holding her had a human's heartbeat. She'd tried a smile, let her eyes meet his, and had forced herself not to react to the black ink that spiraled across his cheekbones and into his hairline.

The sight filled her with dread even if she couldn't have named _why_.

"You shouldn't have come here," he'd told her, expression stern and eyes flinty.

"I'm beginning to get that," Caroline replied. She'd edged backwards, hoping she could melt into the crowd and get _out_.

But he hadn't let her go. "Your kind doesn't belong here. No matter how pretty they are, vampires are not welcome. It's a shame no one thought to tell you."

Caroline had to agree.

"Perhaps that means no one will miss you?" he'd mused. The casualness of it was chilling and he'd pulled, _roughly_, his strength alarming, before she'd had a chance to reply.

She'd taken a deep breath, let it out slowly, concentrating on keeping her limbs from shaking. She had to keep it together, told herself not to fight.

Yet.

He'd clearly been on some kind of witch 'roids, the smart play was to wait for an opening and then run like hell.

He'd been joined by a woman as towed Caroline across the dancefloor, the writhing crowd paying them no mind. The woman wore the same tattoos and Caroline spied more on her arms. She'd regarded Caroline with contempt, then immediately looked away, leaning into the man's ear to his a stream of agitated Greek that Caroline had no hope of understanding. She'd been to the country before, picked up the basics. Regretted not learning more.

The woman provided Caroline with the opportunity she'd been looking for. She'd grabbed the woman by the hair, smashed her head into the man's when they'd been distracted by their argument and had managed to wrench her arm free. She'd heard their bones crunch, smelt blood, but hadn't stuck around to see how much damage she'd done.

She'd just run.

* * *

Her exhaustion was bone deep, hadn't abated in _weeks_. She'd thought they'd give up once she left the city. They hadn't. Had followed her once she'd fled Greece, and as she'd zigzagged (mostly on foot, as she'd learned the hard way how much it sucked to be trapped in a car while magic ripped it apart) through Serbia, Bulgaria and Romania.

She'd pushed herself, refused to give up. Existed on blood and the sheer force of her will.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the Patras coven she'd offended was determined. And there were so _many _of them.

Caroline _thought_ she'd crossed the border into Moldova. The roads were deserted and she walked along the edge of a forest that bordered them. She seemed to have lost her tail. She'd like to be relieved but Caroline had learned that lesson. She knew her lack of pursuer was temporary. The witches had drawn more than enough of her blood in their skirmishes. Could fuel all sorts of locator spells. They'd be on her ass again before too long.

She needed help.

Something she has refused to seek for decades.

She was tempted to reach out to Bonnie. But Bonnie was nearly 70, a grandmother, and firmly settled into a quiet life. Caroline checked up on her whenever she was stateside, knew the Salvatores did too – though their purpose was far more morbid. Bonnie was happy, safe, and Caroline didn't want to disturb that.

There _was _another option.

One a little more complicated.

A call she did not want to make.

Except she didn't want to die either. Could totally do without another round of torture. The wind picked up, and the the dry leaves rustling in the forest was loud. And creepy. Could easily have hidden the sound of approaching footsteps. Caroline gritted her teeth, and dug out the phone she'd lifted the last time she'd seen another person. She'd even managed to compel the pin before she'd had been forced to evade her pursuers.

She swallowed her pride and dialed before she could talk herself out of it. The phone rang six times, the voice that answered short and impatient, "Hello?"

Caroline blew out a breath, cast a wary glance into the woods behind her. She pitched her voice as pleasant as she could manage, "Rebekah? Remember that favor you owe me? I'm going to need to cash it in. Like right now."

Now, Rebekah hadn't been happy about it. Might have even hung up before Caroline could ask for help. Luckily, Enzo had been with Rebekah (and, once she'd figured out the time differences Caroline had a pretty good idea of _why_. And shuddered when she'd realized why Rebekah had sounded a little… winded). He'd grabbed the phone and Caroline had given him the rundown of what happened. Listened to their muffled bickering for several agonizing moments.

Super awkward.

Not that she was complaining. Caroline would gladly stifle her judgements of Rebekah's decades long, often interrupted, fling with Enzo because Rebekah had totally come through even if she hadn't sounded happy about it. Caroline had pulled her location from the phone, relayed it to Rebekah once it was demanded. Obeyed when she'd been told to keep walking north. Had been on guard when a car had pulled up nearly an hour later, sleek and quiet and expensive looking.

Her borrowed phone had rung the second it had come to a complete stop.

Rebekah had spoken as soon as Caroline had answered, "Get in the car, Caroline."

Caroline had eyed the dark haired man who'd gotten out warily. She'd sensed he was a vampire, the smoothness of his movements a dead giveaway. He hadn't said anything or approached her, merely held open the car's back door and waited patiently, "He's a friend of yours?"

Rebekah's response had been clipped, "Not of mine. Nik turned Aurel in the 17th century. He won't harm a single hair on your head. He's taking you to an airstrip. The pilot's one of Elijah's. You'll be whisked to Paris. Nik will meet you there. Insisted he be the one to deal with your little witch problem. And I was so looking forward to a little excitement."

Caroline paused, fought the urge to stomp her foot. She was too old to be throwing tantrums but there was a reason she hadn't called Klaus. She'd thought about asking Rebekah not to contact him, but had reasoned that _asking_ ensured Rebekah would make the call just to be a bitch.

She and Klaus had crossed paths over the years and Caroline knows the encounters are orchestrated more often than not.

Even if she was pretty sure the first one, in Athens, had been completely coincidental. They'd been on a boat, a party thrown by a vampire friend of a friend. She'd seen his back first, the dark blonde curls sending the first pang of recognition through her. The necklaces and the familiar tattoo solidifying it. His face when she'd tapped him on his shoulder sticks in her memories, the open surprise that had shifted to delight, the touch of heat that had bled in when he'd let his eyes drift over her pink bikini.

She chose to believe that he hadn't faked it. They'd talked briefly, though they'd both come to the party with other people. She'd felt his eyes on her all night. Hadn't really minded, her date turning out to be kind of dull.

She'd consented to the odd drink in the beginning though she'd just as often blown him off. Drinks had become meals, breakfasts, lunches and dinners at restaurants that were always incredible even if they'd ranged in opulence. She'd always been a little fascinated by how at ease Klaus could be, no matter if they were eating out of paper cones or at a table with a half dozen forks and fine china.

At some point they'd begun to linger once the last crumbs had been cleared and one day he'd suggested a walk, told her about a little bookstore he thought she'd like.

Caroline had agreed, knowing exactly what he'd been doing in making the invitation. Klaus thought long term – longer than she could fathom even if she was technically a senior citizen. He'd been baiting her, drawing her in, and damn it if he hadn't been ridiculously successful.

She liked spending time with him, Caroline could admit. Liked talking to him and listening to his stories. Liked his interest, the questions he asked about the things she got up to between their encounters. There weren't many people left who knew her the way that Klaus did, could see the way the decades had changed her. His company was easy, the silences never strained. She never had to grope for a topic like she sometimes did with the vampire friends she'd made or make up a backstory like she had to when she got close to a human. She never felt more like herself than she did when they were wandered around a city or lingered over a drink.

She'd gotten comfortable with him but had always figured it wouldn't last. She and Klaus had never really been meant to be _just _friends.

He looked exactly the same as he always had, blue eyes and dimples and the full lips that she had very vivid memories of. The way he moved was distracting, and she often caught herself staring at his hands. Being attracted to Klaus had never been a problem. The heat between them, the way he looked at her, hungry and knowing, hadn't changed either.

He wanted her. Wasn't ashamed of it and didn't try to hide it. Caroline knew it but forced herself to resist. Klaus had let her go when she'd been eighteen with a world to explore. She didn't think he'd be so willing to let her walk away now. Klaus would throw every bit of her considerable persuasive talents at her and Caroline was afraid of just how successful he'd be.

As it was she dreamt of him every time she made herself walk away. Woke up flushed and twisted in her sheets, an ache between her thighs that wouldn't abate with deep breaths, cold showers or distraction techniques. Every time she snuck her fingers into her panties she tried to spin a fantasy about _anyone _else. It never worked and Caroline came with her teeth clenched to keep from panting out his name.

It was a wonder Caroline hadn't jumped his bones _years_ earlier than she had. She deserved a pat on the back for her excellent self-control.

As determined as Caroline was nothing lasted forever.

When her control snapped it had been quick and complete, years of pent up tension had made her reckless. She hadn't even been able to wait for privacy, still blushed a little whenever she remembered that first time, fast and frantic in an alley before the sun had even set. He'd made her filthy promises as his hips had ground into hers. It had been the taste of his blood in her mouth when she'd bitten his shoulder to stifle her scream that had sent her reeling.

They had been in Paris. She hadn't seen him since. There's no way that her heading there now is a coincidence.

He'd brought her to his home, had shredded her dress and bent her over a table in the front hallway. Caroline hadn't minded, couldn't have imagined waiting for a bed. Klaus had fulfilled most of the promises he'd made, whispered that he'd get to the rest in the morning, before she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep. She'd woken up the next morning half underneath Klaus. She'd expected to be disoriented but with his scent around her, his fingers tracing her spine, Caroline felt relaxed. At home. She hadn't wanted to leave.

So of course she'd panicked. And Klaus had seen it, had been unable to keep a leash on his patience. Had goaded her, needled and pushed and enumerated all her fears, her until they'd been shouting and she'd been sorely tempted to throw things at his stupid, too perceptive face.

Caroline had stalked out and regretted it almost immediately. Klaus hadn't popped up since and she had stayed away from what she'd come to know as his favorite cities, partly out of embarrassment and partly because of pride. She'd avoided other vampires because you never knew who Klaus had in his pocket.

She'd come to think that she'd made a mistake and had been working up the courage to admit it. Caroline found that she missed Klaus more than she feared what actually being with him would mean.

She'd been making her way to Athens when she'd taken the detour to Patras. For old time's sake. Planned to work up the courage to give Klaus a call and invite him to join her.

Looked like she wouldn't need to.

Caroline offered Aurel a tight smile. She appreciated that he didn't comment on how long she'd stood there as she'd put her thoughts in order. Though it was possible he was too afraid to, given who he worked for. "Thanks," she muttered, before she slid into the backseat of the car.

The door shut and Caroline leaned back, let her eyes drift closed. Time to put on her big girl panties and quit running.

* * *

She didn't sleep in the car, or on the plane, wary of the strange vampires. They were nothing but polite and accommodating but Caroline could not relax even if she had been assured that they were trustworthy.

It was just her luck that the first time she saw Klaus again she looked awful. She hadn't brushed her hair in days. It was tied back in a ratty braid and her clothes were rumpled and not so fresh. She'd only given the mirror the barest of glances but knew she was pale and her eyes shadowed with strain.

Klaus didn't seem to care. He rested his hands on her shoulders when she cleared the last of the plane's steps, jaw tight as he studied her. One hand drifted up, cupped the back of her neck. Caroline resisted the urge to step into him and bury her face in his shoulder.

His tone is businesslike, "You're grey. You need blood. Are you injured?"

Caroline shook her head, "No. Not anymore."

His gaze sharpened, threads of gold lighting his eyes, "Anymore?" he repeated, tone low and dangerous.

She found herself leaning into his hand, eyes fluttering shut. "Mmm. I got stabbed a couple days ago. The blood bags on the plane took care of the last of the ache."

She felt the anger in Klaus when he stilled, his muscles turned to stone in an attempt to control it even as his touch remained gentle. "You'll have some more when we get to my home," he clipped out. "And then you'll sleep."

She forced her eyes open, fixed him with a tired glare, "I don't take orders from you, Klaus."

His laugh was short and lacking amusement, "You've made that abundantly clear, love."

He didn't try to hide his bitterness and Caroline lowered her eyes, taking a shaky breath. "And I won't. Ever. Can you live with that?"

It probably wasn't the time but Caroline thought they needed to get some things clear. He hadn't been her first call, despite the fact that he was the most logical option, because she hadn't wanted him to think that he was only convenient.

His hands hadn't left her and they urged her face up. His expression was set to a blankness that Caroline disliked intensely, watchful and wary. "Why do you ask?"

She let herself drift closer, until her bare legs brush his jeans. She's tempted to leave the messy conversation for later and wrap her arms around him, luxuriate in the safety he represented. He might even have allowed it, offered comfort and waited for her to provide answers.

Klaus had done an awful lot of waiting on her already.

She reached out, set her hands on him. Klaus didn't push her away but he didn't make any movement that she would classify as encouraging. Caroline bit her lip while she tried to choose the perfect words. It was futile, she knew. Saying the right thing had never been her strong suit. "I like my life. I like that it's _mine_. That I have choices. But sometimes I think it might not be so bad to share it."

Klaus was a smart man. He understood immediately. She was close enough to see the convulsive motion of his throat as he swallowed. His grip on her tightened minutely, "Be sure, Caroline," he told her softly.

It was a warning as much as it was a request.

Caroline met his eyes, let him see her resolve. She'd been sure for months, had just been trying to work out the best way to approach Klaus. "Can you handle it? _Sharing_ not dictating. You can't lock me away when I piss you off, Klaus. And we both know that's inevitable."

Klaus' eyes lifted upwards, reading exasperation, "What exactly do you think that I've been doing, sweetheart? If I wanted you bound to me by anything but your own choice I'd have managed it decades ago."

She knew that. She never would have risked calling Rebekah otherwise.

Caroline pressed her lips together to keep from grinning, lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, "Then take me home, Klaus. I'm in. I'll take the blood bag. And a shower. Half your closet. Actually, wait, make it three-quarters. My clothes take up more room."

His eyes flared bright, heat and a flash of joy, before his head dipped, mouth brushing against her throat on his way to her ear, "And you'll sleep," he murmured. She shivered hearing the edge of need that colored the words. "I need you rested for the things I plan on doing to you."

Her hand clenched in the fabric of his shirt when he nipped at her earlobe and she let herself rest more heavily against him, "And the witches?" she managed, tilting her head to give him more room.

She was totally going to have to convince him she had enough energy for at least one round. She'd had a fling or two, mostly unsatisfying and designed to push Klaus out of her mind. They hadn't worked it feels like forever since she'd been _touched_. There was no way she was getting to sleep with her skin feeling like it did – hot and tight and desperate for his hands. Maybe he'd buy something about multitasking and join her in the shower?

Probably given how tightly he gripped her, the tautness of his frame against hers.

Caroline snuck her hands under his shirt, splayed her fingers against his abdomen. The muscles tensed but Klaus' voice remained even, "I've had several detained. We'll ferret out the rest soon enough. I'd be happy to discuss how you think they should be handled. Death is a given but I'm open to negotiating how humanely it's meted out."

Caroline snorted, because wasn't that just typical of Klaus? It's lucky she agrees on this particular matter or else they'd be fighting before they'd even begun.

He pulled her hand away from him. Caroline resisted and his breath hitched the tiniest bit when she dug her nails into his skin. Klaus shot her a warning look before he ushered her towards a waiting SUV. His hand drifted low, traced the waistband of her shorts absently.

Caroline shivered. Yeah, there was no way she was _just _going to sleep.

"I had to ditch all my stuff and spent three weeks dodging them. Stabbing wasn't even the worst thing they did. I am fine with death. I am even fine with it being messy."

"Perhaps I'll send for Kol. He's due for a bit of fun," Klaus mused.

Caroline wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. She'd have to meet his family eventually (having mostly managed to avoid them, save for Rebekah) but she kind of thought easing into it would be better.

They could argue about it later. It would be the first of many.

Caroline knew disagreements were inevitable. They'd were too different for things to be smooth for long. She fully expected to spend a fair amount of time fighting with Klaus as they settled into a life together. They would both have to bend and neither of them did that easily. She probably _would_ end up throwing something ridiculously expensive at his head. Klaus was many things but he would never be simple or fond of compromise.

Caroline wasn't either. She'd been stubborn as a human and that had never changed.

They'd figure it out. Eventually. Caroline wouldn't have decided to stay if she didn't think it was worth it.


	51. Block Beating Drabbles

**Notes:** Writing has been a struggle lately. I asked for prompts and people kindly delivered. So have an odd hodge podge of drabbles!

**A Certain Type of Man**

**(Prompt: a klaus/caroline/loki love triangle for your mini drabble thing-y? please please please i'll literally do anything i'm thirsty for this. Rated T.)**

Klaus almost doesn't answer his phone.

He hesitates, staring at the screen. An unknown number rarely means good things and it's not as though he's free with his information. If he was easy to get a hold of every upstart witch or bitter vampire with a grudge would think that he cared about whatever petty grudge they had and the doubtlessly shoddy plotting they were doing. He'd be subject to taunting calls and endless boredom listening to them drone on.

It gets tedious witnessing so many utter failures.

However, he's _just_ landed in Amsterdam. Has sent a compelled human to stow his things in his hotel while he wandered on foot in search of entertainment. Why not see what this phone call has to offer? It's been ringing for ages and it's not as if he has anything better to do at the moment.

He lets the call connect. Drawls out a bored, "Hello?"

Immediately hears a rush of air, a relieved sigh spilling across the line, and a woman's voice. One he has no trouble placing, "Oh, thank god. I had no idea if your number was still the same and no idea how to track you down if it was different."

Klaus' footsteps slow in his surprise and he throws a harsh glare at the man who nearly plows into him. He does his best to keep his reply pleasantly neutral even though this call is the most intriguing thing to happen in a good while, "Caroline. A pleasure. How long has it been?"

He has no trouble imagining the rolling of her eyes, the impatient set of her brows. She's agitated and Klaus will need to find out why. "Cut the crap, Klaus," she snaps. "You know _exactly_ how long it's been."

He does.

Caroline had stopped by New Orleans twelve years ago fresh off a tour of Europe, bright eyed and bursting with stories and questions. They'd had dinner, many _many_ drinks. Watching her speak, gesticulate wildly and laugh without any hesitance remains a favorite memory of Klaus'. Tales of her travels had even sparked a little something in him – an itch to move that he'd not bothered to stifle once she'd gone. He'd done his very best to coax her into a longer stay, and though her eyes had lingered on his mouth and her body had swayed closer to his than strictly appropriate Caroline had refused to be tempted.

Still so very stubborn, her will an iron thing. And though he'd always found it part of her charm Klaus had been pleased to see a softening, however slight it had been. Once upon a time she'd not have dawdled at a table with him, would have taken off the instant she felt she could. He'd taken it as a victory at the time. An indication that one day he'd be successful, he only had to wait.

They'd watched the sunrise together but she'd left long before the Louisiana heat could become oppressive. With a _hug_ and a promise to see Klaus around. Caroline had been headed back to Mystic Falls for a short visit - to pay her respects to her parents and drop in on the Bennett witch. Her plan had been to head to South America afterwards and Klaus heard reports from various contacts that she'd spent a number of years on that continent before leaving again. Whispers of her whereabouts had been few and far between ever since.

He's resisted pressing deeper, launching any kind of search. It would set him back, he knew. He wonders if he should have gone with his instincts.

Klaus realizes that he's taken too long to respond. Caroline's breaths are anxious, harsh and too fast. He can hear her moving about, shuffles and the odd thumps. He begins walking again, more alert. He has no idea why she'd be nervous, he's always made it clear that he welcomes hearing from her, unless something was amiss. "It's been longer than I'd like, I must admit. Where are you, love?"

She makes no attempts to brush off the question, "New York, but I'm leaving. Like, right now."

Klaus' eyes narrow at her urgency, "Are you in trouble, Caroline?"

Her motions still and her answer comes out resigned, "I'm so sorry, Klaus."

"Whatever for?"

"This. I really hate that I'm calling you for a favor but I have no better option. A complete lack of options, actually. I am in _way_ over my head."

"What happened?" Klaus clips out. They'll deal with the apologies later once he's assured her safety. Distantly, he's pleased that she'd thought to make one.

She hesitates, her reply coming out soft and unsure. "Well, it all started when I met this guy…"

He grits his teeth, forces himself not to shatter the phone in his hand. Not what he'd wanted to hear. "And…" Klaus prods.

"And in the beginning it was great," Caroline explains in a rush. "He was charming, educated, and witty. Had fabulous taste in restaurants and could _really_ wear a suit. Even had an accent."

The other man's virtues were not among the list of things cared to know. He pushes past the searing flash of jealousy, the twitching of his fingers that urges violence. "Sounds like quite the catch."

She must hear his ire, as badly disguised as it was. Caroline makes no comment. "On paper, yep. Total dreamboat. But things got weird. He got a little possessive. And that can be hot in private but I am so not into my boyfriend popping up and screwing with my coworkers, you know? I managed to ask some questions, found out he was chock full of issues."

"Issues?" Klaus questions.

"Yeah. Who knew I was a beacon for megalomaniacs with daddy issues and way too much power to deal with them constructively? I'd have suggested therapy but then I found out he's not exactly human. And super old do I figured it would be useless."

"You couldn't tell he was a vampire?" Klaus asks incredulously. He finds it hard to believe. Caroline's always been clever and is closing in on half a century of vampirism. She should know the signs.

She huffs, sounding offended. "Of course I could've. He isn't a vampire. He's an alien. Technically. Though he prefers to be thought of as a god."

"A… God?"

"I wasn't exaggerating about the issues," Caroline tells him dryly. "It's a step up from king, huh?"

Klaus brushes aside the dig, focusing on what else she'd told him. He finds himself halting again, mind whirling. He's never seen or heard any concrete evidence that other beings exist but he's always allowed for the possibility given the universes vastness and the small, tentative, steps humans have so far made to explore it. "An alien," he repeats, just to be certain.

"Yeah, shocked me too. And hey, I don't like to discriminate but he seems to think I should accompany him to Asgard, wherever the hell that is. Is a little too fascinated by compulsion. It doesn't work on him but apparently his mind is a little different than most Asgardians. I like travelling but I'm getting a lot of vagueness in regard to a return date which I am not cool with. I've tried to explain but he isn't being all that understanding about the fact that I'm pretty fond of Earth. I'm done being reasonable."

Klaus, who happened to be quite fond of Caroline being on earth, nodded approvingly. He'd do anything in his power to ensure she stayed within his reach. He resolved to question her about the particulars later, once the immediate threat was passed. "What do you need?"

"To hide. He's going to get called back in like a month. Some kind of royal summons. _Not_ optional. I just need to dodge him until then so I need a witch. A powerful one since this guy's no stranger to magic. I don't want to drag Bonnie into this. She's got her hands full with teenage baby witches. He says time moves differently on other planets so with any luck he'll forget all about lil' old me."

Klaus doesn't share her optimism. He'll have to look into more permanent solutions, find protections. He's already making a mental list. "You're packing?" he confirms. The sooner she's with him the better.

"Not well but I've got the basics together."

They can worry about the rest later. "Find a car," Klaus instructs. "Not one you've ever been in before. Compel whatever human you steal it from not to miss it and drive out of the city. I'll text you directions to a private airstrip. A plane will be waiting. By the time you've landed I'll have a witch who can hide you. We'll head somewhere else, wait out your extraterrestrial paramour."

"Okay," Caroline breathes out. She seems calmer, and Klaus is glad. He'd disliked the shakiness he'd heard immensely. "Thank you," she murmurs. "Where am I going?"

"First? You're coming to me, love," Klaus tells her. And he'll not hear any arguments about it.

Caroline surprises him, manages a weak joke. "Probably smart. Since you're the most powerful being on earth."

Klaus ignores her teasing, pleased that she sounds a little more like herself. "Just so," he agrees, and listens to her laugh. Caroline was one of the few people who'd find _him_ the less dangerous option. Likely because she was one of the few people he'd protect without being offered something in return. "We can argue about our next destination in person, hmm? I seem to remember some differing opinions about Russia. Perhaps we'll take a tour?"

"If we must," Caroline grumbles, though it's half-hearted.

Klaus smiles, amused. "I'll see you soon, Caroline."

She thanks him again before she says goodbye and Klaus changes course, heading back to the airport, head down as he sends texts to multiple contacts to begin to get things arranged. He knows just the witch to contact, will call in a favor he's been saving for a very long time.

Caroline, and the month they'll spend together (more if he can manage it), is worth it.

**Clear Up The Record**

**(Prompts: kc + coffee shop/bakery au + hungry for more than pastries probs in the stock room ;););); + Coffee shop "I write a bad pick up line on your cup every time." Title from 'Coffee' by The Arkells. Rated T).**

"_Are you a girl scout? Because you tie my heart in knots."_

He watches carefully as the brunette reads what he'd written on her cup. Unfortunately, her nose wrinkles she tosses her hair back before she walks out with a huff. Throws a dirty look at him over her shoulder for good measure. Klaus supresses a sigh. He's never struck out quite so often. He hears Caroline giggle softly. He glances over at Caroline and watches her pinch her lips together in a feeble attempt to stifle her amusement. His own disgruntlement at his repeated failures vanishes. She looks happy. It's a far cry from how Caroline had been when she'd started her shift – tight lipped and preoccupied, shooting him occasional glances but avoiding direct eye contact. He'd been mystified at her distance and Klaus takes the favorable shift in her mood as a win.

She'd been up for playing the usual game, had relaxed as the night progressed. Understandable, given how much she liked winning.

The game had started, as those sorts of things always did, out of boredom. Well, boredom and a burning desire to get out of the less pleasant closing tasks. Before they'd implemented it he and Caroline typically relied on rock paper scissors to decide who was stuck with bathroom cleanup duty. He _could_ have foisted such duties off on her easily, since he _was_ technically her supervisor. But that would be rude, not to mention a sure fire way of killing any shot he had of getting Caroline to ever agree to see him outside of work.

The game's rules are simple. 1. A pickup line must be written on a customer's cup. 2. The customer must see and react to the line before they leave the cafe. 3. Points are only awarded if all parties agree the customer's reaction was favorable.

It was too busy during the day to play, the steady stream of cubicle dwellers looking for a caffeine fix and harried assistants picking up big orders of coffee, sandwiches and assorted pastries (the café's bread and butter) making the hours fly.

Evenings were another story. They dragged. Sometimes a person would come in with a laptop and plop themselves at a table and tap away for hours. They got to witness the occasional excruciatingly awkward first date (and the even more seldom date that went really, really well. Part of the reason neither of them were too keen on cleaning the bathrooms was that time they both heard some very suspicious thumping noises coming from the ladies room after a pair on a date had hit it off). The mirror had been covered in hand prints and Klaus hadn't looked too closely at the floor as he'd mopped.

Such excitement was rare. There would be long stretches of time where they had no customers at all.

Those evenings might be Klaus' favorite, if he was being honest. He'd been leery the first time he and Caroline were scheduled to close together, afraid that the bubbly warmth that made Caroline a hit with customers would be cloying during quiet times. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that there was much more to her. She was sharp and witty, amused him with her wild theorizing about the lives of people who walked by. The hours had passed quickly and he'd almost been sorry to say goodnight. Driving home that evening Klaus had found himself eagerly looking forward to working with Caroline again.

A feeling that had only grown and _might_ have led to Klaus arranging things so they closed together as often as he could manage.

Caroline waits until the offended customer leaves and leans against the counter. She crosses her arms and adopts an exaggeratedly concerned tone, "You are so not having a good night, Klaus. Even your one pointers aren't flying. Maybe the accent's lost its charm?"

He rolls his eyes, tucking his Sharpie back into his apron, "Doubtful, love. I've lived here for six years. You'd think it had happened long ago. Is there something on my face? In my teeth, maybe? You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If only to keep things sporting."

Her brows rise, and she lifts a shoulder in a gesture that's probably supposed to read apologetic, "Um, no. I like to win. Not opposed to playing dirty. At all."

Klaus should have guessed.

It's a half hour until close and Caroline's got nine points to his three. She'd played a couple of two pointers (they had a scale – one point for cute, innocuous pickup lines, two for any that bordered on cheesy or suggestive and three for the filthy ones that could very well get them written up) which was unusual for her. The fact that she hadn't immediately tossed the business card a dark haired guy had slid her, after he'd read the line she'd scribbled on his cup an hour ago, was also out of character. Caroline had even smiled coyly and flirted back for a moment. Something Klaus had noted with great interest even as a twinge of jealousy burned hot.

It's not something she'd ever done before. And Klaus would know, having spent quite a bit of time studying her. Caroline's always been cool and polite with the men who hit on her at work, firmly told them that she wasn't single when they pressed. That her behavior has changed, even if only slightly, is intriguing to Klaus. His more gossipy coworkers have been whispering for weeks that Caroline's relationship was on the rocks and he'd walked in on a frosty cell phone conversation or two in the breakroom during the same time period.

He's been itching to know more but hasn't been able to work out a subtle way. He'd never bothered to learn the man's name (Steven? Stewart? Something like that) so casually asking how he was doing was out of the question. Klaus had only met the boyfriend in passing twice. First when he'd come to pick Caroline up (and hadn't even bothered to hold the door for her, despite the fact that she was juggling coffee, a takeout box and her school things) and then a second time when he'd come out to a pub with them for their boss' birthday. The boyfriend had spent the whole night tucked into the corner of a booth, glued to his phone, offering curt, monosyllabic, answers whenever Caroline had attempted to include him in the conversation.

Those encounters had left Klaus assuming (hoping) that his tenure as Caroline's boyfriend would be short so his name wasn't all that important. She could obviously do leagues better.

Klaus makes a show of untying his apron, "I suppose I ought to concede defeat. In the interest of getting out of here at a reasonable time."

Caroline's head tips to the side and she studies him with interest, "Hot date?" she asks.

Klaus is nearly certain that there's more than casual interest in the question, a bit of a flirt coloring her tone. Fervently hopes it's not just wishful thinking on his part. He pauses, takes a step towards her. Caroline doesn't straighten from her slouch, not even when he's close enough that their legs brush. "Shouldn't I be asking you that, sweetheart? You're the one with a phone number in your apron. Won't your boyfriend be upset about that?"

Caroline's brows furrow and she meets his eyes steadily, "Nope. We broke up three weeks ago."

"I'm sorry," Klaus tells her and he holds back a wince at just how insincerely it had come out.

Luckily, Caroline isn't offended. "No you're not," she shoots back.

"I'm not," Klaus confirms. He sets a hand on the counter next to her hip, watches her carefully before planting the other on the opposite side. She doesn't seem to mind being caged in and he's certain he's not imagining the way her eyes dart down to his mouth. Well, wasn't that promising? More than enough to encourage Klaus to make a leap. "Would you like to join me for a drink after we finish up here, Caroline?"

She bites her lower lip in consideration, fighting a smile. "I would. Do you want to come to my place? Just for a drink. Because I'm covered in coffee stains and I didn't bring a change of clothes. You're totally going to have to work a little harder to get into my pants."

Klaus grins, lets himself crowd her just a bit more, their calves tangling together. He has a brief flash of boosting her onto the counter and stepping between her legs. She's wearing a dress and he'd do all manner of terrible things to get a peek at what's underneath it, learn the texture of her bare skin. "Work harder?" he teases. "I wasn't aware I'd been working at all."

Caroline rests a hand on his chest, her fingertips toying with one of the buttons at his throat, "That's a lie and you know it, Klaus. There's a pool going."

That takes him aback. He shifts, attempts to push away so he can ask what she means, but Caroline's hand is fisted in his collar, refusing to let him go far. "I beg your pardon?"

"Everyone's in on it," Caroline informs him breezily. "Come on, you've been checking me out since I started and we've been flirting for almost as long. I had Enzo put some money down for me. You're going to need to ask me out in front of someone tomorrow."

Klaus blinks down at her for a moment, "Ask you out?" he repeats.

Caroline doesn't seem put off by his confusion, "It's the day I bet on. We're both working the afternoon so they'll be witnesses. Make it good."

"What's in it for me?" Klaus wonders. Though he has a pretty good idea.

Caroline's smile widens, and she leans in, her lips almost brushing his ear when she speaks, "Well, a date for one. And I have every reason to believe it'll go well."

"Leading to a second?"

"Most likely. And I've already invited you over, Klaus. There are a whole lot of things that aren't sex that we can do." She presses a kiss to his jaw, lets her hands drag down his chest before she pulls away. "Now go. Clean. I'll get the chairs. Let's aim for the speediest close ever, okay?"

Klaus isn't going to argue with that.

**Different Worlds and Different Rules**

**(Prompt: minidrabble kc + caroline ends up in her future self's body. Title from 'Where is Home? By Bloc Party. Rated T).**

Caroline's not a big fan of early wake ups.

Her snooze button gets a workout regularly. It's only the fact that if she doesn't get up and get to cheer practice to start barking orders the girls will end up slacking, and ogling the track team instead of stretching, that forces her out of her nice warm bed most mornings. It was her senior year and there was a trophy on the line. Caroline couldn't have the squad wasting valuable practice time.

She's awake but barely, trying to fall asleep again since no alarm had blared, when she notices that there's something… off. The bed she's on is amazing, huge and the sheets feel incredible. The only problem? It's definitely not hers. And she distinctly remembers going to sleep in her own room after a marathon chemistry studying session last night. She smells several things, some familiar others not. Sex and blood. A hint of wine and a whiff of woodsy cologne that she can't immediately place even if it tugs at something at the back of her memory.

Plus, she's naked. And that's alarming.

Caroline fights the urge to panic, tells herself that she has to _think_. She pushes past her nudity, and the black hole in her memory, notes that she's not hungry so at least she's fed recently. Her movements aren't restricted and there's no lingering vervain burns, none of the aches that happen after a major injury. She keeps her breathing steady focuses her senses. Reminds herself that she's been in tight spots before and so far this is _far_ from the worst.

More alert, Caroline cracks her eyes open, and heaves herself up on her elbows, glancing around the room. She doesn't recognize it, only notes that everything in it looks really freaking expensive from the art on the walls, to the leather couches that look buttery soft and inviting, to the heavy curtains that cover what must be huge windows along one wall. There's clothes strewn over the plush carpet and Caroline can hear water falling from an adjoining bathroom.

Excellent. A window to escape and find out where the hell she is and how the fuck she'd gotten there. She didn't know if whoever had taken her was a moron or just overconfident but escape was always the best option if you didn't know who, or what, you were up against. She'd find a phone and call Bonnie. And her mom.

Hurriedly wrapping the sheet around herself she slides off the bed. Caroline skips over the black heels, eyes the torn bit of black lace that might have been panties once just beyond them for a moment before shaking herself. She picks up the pants that lay in the middle of the room, silently cursing when the belt jingles. She listens for a moment but the shower continues to run, no one bounding out to stop her from fleeing. Caroline eyes the pants critically, giving the fabric an experimental tug. They're clearly well made, and have very little give. So not going to fit. She drops them but grabs the shoes that lay next to them. Those she can make work.

She finds a dress next, is dismayed to find that the straps are torn. She slips it on anyway, folds down the waist to ensure it stays put, giving herself a few extra inches of skirt in the process. There's a dress shirt and a suit jacket by the door and she pads over to them.

Ugh. And of course the shirt is missing a couple buttons.

Caroline slips it on and ties it closed, is just about to throw the jacket on and bolt when the bathroom door opens. She freezes, but only for a moment. Then she lunges for the fancy lacquered table next to the door, tearing a leg off and holding it up, her fangs dropping as her vision sharpens.

She stills in confusion because one, her captor is _naked_, beads of water dripping down his lean form. She _really_ shouldn't be so captivated by the sight by given he's a kidnapping _creep_ but she chalks it up to shock. And two because he's clearly unconcerned about her attempts to escape, rubbing a towel over his hair, obscuring his face, and not looking at her. When he speaks it's conversational, teasing, and Caroline's dealt another blow because she _knows_ it. "You're up early. Surprising, given how late you kept me up. Did you want to join me in the shower, love? I don't mind getting a late start."

Her jaw drops and her grip on her makeshift stake tightens, "Klaus?" she shrieks, her outrage clear. "Are you kidnapping me? God, didn't you _just_ say we were _friends_? Friends don't abduct friends. I thought that was self-explanatory but I guess not." He'd dropped his hands when she'd first started speaking and is blinking at her in confusion. Caroline takes a step back, banging into the door, and the memories of how she'd awoken flooding through her. She feels sick, and her voice shakes when she asks her next question, "Why was I _naked_ and why can't I remember getting naked? What did you _do_ to me?"

Klaus has gone very still, and he wraps the towel around his waist slowly, studying her carefully. "Caroline, sweetheart, take a breath," he instructs her, firm and coaxing, and Caroline finds herself inhaling raggedly in response. "Now, what's the last thing you remember?"

She swallows hard. "I… studying. I have my Chemistry final on Thursday."

Klaus' face remains soft, something like understanding dawning, and he makes no move to approach her. "Right. You told me about this. It was such a long time ago, however. I assure you, sweetheart that I did _not_ kidnap you. And I'm afraid that final was oh, about a hundred and thirteen years ago though I am sure you did excellently."

"A hundred and thirteen … what?!" she finds herself yelping, wincing at the high pitch. "Klaus, that's _insane_."

"I thought so too, but you insisted it happened. Were quite vague on the details, something about refusing to mess with the space-time continuum. At the time I wondered if you'd been dabbling in some of the herbs witches peddle but I guess I've been proved wrong. I do wish I'd pressed for more details."

"I would never," Caroline spits out, offended at the implication that she'd done _drugs_.

An amused little smile plays about Klaus' mouth, "I happen to know that you have, love. You've passed your 130th birthday at this point in time. You've always delighted in new experiences. Is it really so hard to believe that you've experimented a bit?"

Caroline glares, "Do you really expect me to buy any of this? Cut the crap, Klaus."

He sighs, and nods to a small sparkly purse that had been hidden under the table Caroline had destroyed, "Your phone should be in there, love. Why don't you take a look through it while I dress?"

Caroline debates her options. Going out, alone, with no money, or staying here and humoring Klaus' crazy long enough to get answers? It was a tough decision.

Klaus waits for her grudging nod before heading to a stack of suitcases in the corner of the room. He rummages for a moment. He glances over at her, "Would you like something else to wear?"

Caroline eyes him suspiciously, her back still pressed tightly against the door.

Klaus shakes his head, and gathers a few things before disappearing into the bathroom. Caroline dives for the bag the second the door's shut. The phone's right on top, slim and silver. She taps the screen, almost fumbling at the photo that pops up. It's a selfie, Klaus looking mildly annoyed while she presses a kiss to his cheek, her hair blowing in the wind. Caroline bites her lip and presses her thumb to the single button. 'Identification Accepted' flashes across the screen and Caroline's left looking at an array of unfamiliar icons.

Maybe there was something to this whole 'You're in the future!' thing.

She goes right to the one labeled photos, begins to flick through the dizzying array. There are a lot of them. Places she's never been to, things she's never seen. Klaus pops up frequently, often not directly in the frame, like she'd been sneaky about getting him in the photo. She's shocked to see Rebekah, Kol and Elijah too. Enzo's in several, and Stefan. Tons of people she doesn't recognize. Caroline finds herself sinking to the floor, her legs trembling and weak.

Can vampires have panic attacks? Was there a paper bag she could breathe into? Did those even still _exist_?

Caroline swallows down a hysterical laugh and opens the phone's browser, searches 'today's news.' Clicks on links, barely skims the information, just confirms that the dates are exactly what Klaus had indicated.

She's more than a freaking century in the future.

If this is a prank, or a trick, it's pretty damn elaborate. Klaus is powerful, but Caroline doubts he can control the whole internet.

She goes back to the pictures, hungrily studies the details. It's blowing her mind that she'll go to all these places someday.

That's how Klaus finds her when he reappears, wide eyed and bent over the phone. He's fully dressed this time and he takes one look at her before retrieving a bottle of liquor and a blanket. Caroline takes a hearty swig of the bourbon once it's offered, realizing that it can't make things any _worse_. It burns but she doesn't care. She drapes the blanket Klaus had handed over across her lap and tries to figure out what to say.

Klaus had assumed she'd join him in the shower. They travelled together, shared luggage. Possibly a life. Had he been responsible for the torn clothes she'd found? Had some version of herself actually ripped his shirt off him?

How had _that_ even happened?

Klaus settles down across from her, legs stretched out in her direction. His eyes catalogue her every reaction hungrily but his movements are careful, not letting himself get too close. Caroline finds herself appreciative. "So…" she begins slowly, plucking at the blanket. "You and future me are a thing, huh?"

He smiles, leans back on his hands. "It's relatively new, truth be told. Less than a decade. You nearly made me wait the full century."

Caroline's honestly kind of floored that he _had_ waited. Last she'd heard he was set to leave Mystic Falls in his dust. She'd kind of assumed she'd leave his mind once he found someplace bigger and better. Had told herself she had no right to be sad or wistful about that, given who Klaus was and the fact that she shouldn't be feeling _anything_ for him after the things he'd done.

She clears her throat, letting her eyes drift around the room. She thinks it's a hotel. As lovely as it is there's nothing of her here. Nothing that speaks of Klaus, either. "Where are we?"

Again, Klaus answers easily. Seemingly content to let her drive the conversation. "Tokyo, actually. It's a favorite of yours. It's the first time we've been here together. Just arrived the day before yesterday. It was supposed to be my day to pick the sights."

"Sorry," Caroline apologizes, letting her eyes meet his briefly. She quickly looks away, finds the way he's watching her unnerving. "For the whole time travelling thing messing up your turn."

He waves her off, unconcerned. "No matter. We've really nothing but time. Future you will make it up to me. Besides, one of the few things my Caroline told me about this incident was that her visit wasn't particularly long. I believe you'll return to your proper time and place soon enough."

Caroline processes that, takes a longing glance at the covered windows. "Can we… leave?" She asks tentatively. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and meets his gaze once more, feeling oddly shy, "I meant it when I said I'd never been anywhere. I figure I might as well take advantage of whatever weirdness is screwing with me, right?"

Klaus smiles and rises, "Of course we can, sweetheart. I'd be delighted to keep my promise of showing you around." He nods towards the suitcases, his toe nudging at her foot. It's encased in what must be his shoe and she catches a hint of a smirk on his lips, "I find your ensemble fetching, of course but it might draw a few stares. Why don't you change? I'll grab us something to eat. Do you need blood or will food suffice?"

"Food is fine," she tells him, reaches out without thinking. Klaus clasps her hand and pulls her to her feet. She's not sure if it's her surprise at the ease of her action, or if he'd put a little extra elbow into it, but she ends up stumbling into him. He steadies her, his free hand on her hip, before taking a step back to an almost polite distance.

She fleetingly wishes he hadn't, had stayed pressed against her.

Not thoughts she should be having. Even if release has been hard to come by with Tyler gone. She firmly reminds herself of exactly whose fault _that_ is. She manages to stop herself from tossing him a dirty look, because what was the point of holding something Klaus had done a century ago against him right now?

She had obviously managed to get over it at some point. The way she'd woken up, the state of the clothes on the floor, made it abundantly clear that future Caroline and future Klaus were significantly more than friends.

"Am I happy?" she blurts out, lifting her eyes to study Klaus.

He seems to consider the question, for several long moments. "I believe you are. It's not perfect. I have enemies and certain friends of yours still aren't all that fond of me. You and Rebekah have only managed to tolerate each other in short bursts and you think Elijah is a 'self-righteous busy body.' We fight. I'm not particularly good at apologies and neither of us admits defeat easily. Compromise is a battle. But so far we've always made up and I've every intention of seeing that trend continue."

It's honest. More honest than she was expecting. He could have painted something prettier, tempting words about their adventures or their passion. She thinks she likes the reality better. Can see herself wanting it someday. Something complicated and challenging. It sounds like it would never be boring, at least. Klaus has always pushed her, made her question how she saw the world, and herself. Maybe he still does the same for future her, and maybe she manages to do the same for him.

She thinks about asking him if he's happy, but the way he's watching her kind of makes it unnecessary. Fascinated, but distant. His words had told her all that she needed to know. Klaus tried for her, attempted to, as she'd once advised, get out of his own way. He wouldn't bother if he didn't _want_ to.

The silence has lingered, and it's grown a little heavy. Caroline offers him a smile, "I'll be quick. And I have high expectations," she jokes. "Current me might decide to make you wait _two_ centuries, you know."

He hasn't dropped her hand, and he bows, a touch theatrically, dropping a kiss to the back of her knuckles. Caroline rolls her eyes, but Klaus speaks before she can mock him for being cheesy. His eyes hold hers, teasing and lit with determination, "Challenge accepted, sweetheart."

She hadn't meant it like that. Caroline has a sinking feeling that there's no way he's not going to win. Maybe current her won't even last as long as future her had.

"God, this time travel thing is confusing," she blurts out, before tugging her hand away from Klaus. He chuckles softly and lets himself out of the room. Caroline's glad he'd taken the hint, and was letting her get her bearings.

There was no way she was going to miss this opportunity. A free trip to Tokyo? She could worry about the rest, the faint stirrings of unease about what spending time with _this_ version of Klaus would do to her, and how this had even _happened_, later. Much later. Klaus had been right when he'd said she had nothing but time.


	52. Sequel Snippets (Two)

**Notes: **One of my writer's block beating strategies – mini sequels! So here's a couple. Some old, some new. Some not so mini and some that will eventually be expanded. Enjoy and as always I'd love to hear what you thought!

**Magnets Pull Me In (Part 3)**

**Prompt: "A continuation of your hogwarts drabble please *puppy dog eyes* when they're officially together?" First part is found in Chapter 11, second part in Chapter 31. Rated T.)**

She's biting her nails. Caroline _hates_ biting her nails and has mostly managed to kick the habit. Except when she's exceptionally stressed. Like right now. Then she can't seem to help herself, her flawless self-control nowhere to be found.

Watching quidditch had always been nerve wracking. She told herself that it was only natural to feel uneasy about the safety of her schoolmates, who were often recklessly fixated on winning (though Caroline had to admit she could relate), during games. These days her anxiety levels were off the charts. Was a little common sense too much to ask for? Could Klaus not make more of an effort to keep a firm grip on his broom? For her peace of mind if nothing else?

They would be having words later.

Klaus was _the worst_ of them all, had no qualms about risky maneuvers and aggressive plays. He was the reason her leg hadn't stopped jiggling restlessly, why she was sweating despite the frigid November air and light snow. Honestly it was a miracle he'd only managed the one serious injury thus far.

It's his first game since they'd become more than kind of friendly adversaries and Caroline is a _wreck_ and trying _really_ hard not to show it. Rebekah's not faring much better, pale faced and clutching her friend April's hand every time Klaus takes a dive or a hard turn. She keeps glancing back at Caroline and it's an effort to smile reassuringly.

It's hard not to remember that the last time Klaus had played a match he had ended up with his arm crushed. Things had definitely changed, for the better, between them since Caroline had volunteered to tend him while his bones regrew and they'd managed to come to something of an understanding. That didn't mean she had any desire to repeat the experience.

The Hogsmeade date she'd grudgingly agreed to had gone _really_ well.

At the end of it he'd walked her to her private dorm. Klaus had kissed her cheek at the door (perks of being Head Girl – no tricky boy repelling staircases!), bid her goodnight and moved to walk away. Caroline had gaped after him for approximately five seconds before she'd stomped after him, shoved him into a wall and kissed him properly.

Seriously. She had _thought_ they'd established that she liked when he was nice but not _too_ nice. Clearly he was too thick-headed to take subtle hints.

Luckily, Caroline had always excelled at making a point.

Her blouse had been untucked and his curls a dishevelled mess from her hands when they'd managed to disengage. Klaus had been grinning and Caroline had bitten her lip to keep her own smile in. She'd pushed away from him and crossed her arms haughtily, "For future reference _that's_ how you say goodnight if you want a girl to go out with you again, Klaus."

His lips had settled into a smirk and his body had followed hers, easing into her space once more. Caroline had held her ground and Klaus' hands had landed on her hips, slid up and down her sides in gentle _distracting_ caress. "Noted, love. Does that mean you'd like a second date?"

He'd sounded so very smug and Caroline had fought back a groan. She could not believe she'd walked right into that one. Narrowing her eyes she'd kept her tone casual, "Maybe. Assuming you don't annoy me too much when we're trying to finish out transfiguration project."

Klaus had smirked, "I'll be sure to annoy you the perfect amount. Since you've already confessed to your secret enjoyment of it."

She'd opened her mouth to reply but all that had come out was a stuttered breath when he'd once more brushed his lips across her cheek. He lingered and she'd fought a shudder at the faint rasp of his stubble against her skin. His hands had pressed against her firmly, a fingertip grazing the strip of bare skin where her top had rucked up. His voice had been low, enticing, and a touch gravelly. "Goodnight, Caroline. Sleep well."

She'd half expected some cheesy line about dreaming about him but Klaus had managed to refrain. Had pulled away and taken his leave while she'd still been processing the rapid influx of feelings and _urges_ he'd managed to inspire with a few simple touches.

She had _not_ slept well that night.

The next morning Caroline had been grumpy, snappish and intent on guzzling coffee until she felt like she could interact with other people without casting jinxes. Most of her housemates had taken one look at her and silently shifted over to give her space at the table eschewing the usual chorus of morning greetings.

She'd been ready to snarl at the person who settled in next to her until a blueberry muffin had appeared in front of her face. It was her favorite and smelled heavenly and was cradled in a _very_ familiar hand (the dirty fantasies about _that_ pair of hands might have been the reason for the tossing and turning Caroline had done). Her face had heated once a few had drifted back to the surface and Caroline sent a fervent wish out into the universe that Klaus wouldn't notice.

She did _not_ want to explain and Klaus certainly did not need any ego stroking. At all.

He'd wiggled the muffin, his face questioning and Caroline had reached out to take it. It had still been warm and she'd reached for the butter, suddenly starving. "Thanks," she'd told him.

Klaus had smiled and reached for the pumpkin juice, "You're welcome, love."

She'd expected him to start talking, to tease her about her messy bun and clear crankiness but he hadn't, had merely plated up his breakfast, silently passing her the things she liked and sending the things she didn't (black pudding – shudder) in the opposite direction.

He'd done it deftly, with no hesitation and, like with the orange juice incident, Caroline had been struck by the knowledge that Klaus had been paying attention, that his interest in her wasn't new or superficial. It had sent a burst of warmth through her, and a little giddy thrill.

Caroline had reached for his hand, under the table. Had threaded her fingers through his and squeezed, murmured another soft thanks, before pulling away and digging in.

Her bad mood had evaporated in record time.

Ever since they've made a habit of sitting together at breakfast. Usually at dinner too, but they generally stick with their friends (or Klaus will often sit with his siblings) for lunch. They study together most evenings, and not just for the classes they share.

Though it doesn't always work.

Klaus' grades are excellent but he's not nearly as methodical as Caroline is. She'd been appalled to learn that he had no form of agenda or planner, just relied on his memory and the odd reminder scribbled in his class notes, to track due dates. Caroline had already purchased him one as part of his Christmas gift. She sometimes made him sit on the opposite side of the table from her so she wouldn't be distracted by him in her line of sight (or his tendency to absently reach out and touch her, to stretch out his legs to rest against hers). Klaus usually rolled his eyes but complied for long enough for her to get things done, silently studying or sketching until he sensed Caroline could be coaxed into a break.

Truthfully, he didn't even have to put that much effort into convincing her.

Another perk of being head girl? Access to the restricted section. The _breaks_ she and Klaus indulged in weren't always comfortable (and she'd had to apply bruise paste once or twice when Klaus had pressed her a little too enthusiastically into the shelves) but they were far more time efficient than walking across the castle to her dorm room. They just had to be careful that Madame Pince didn't see them leaving, the flushed cheeks and swollen lips would have been a dead giveaway, even if all other evidence of their amorous activities could be hidden under billowy school robes.

Klaus had officially asked her to the next Hogsmeade weekend, a gesture Caroline had appreciated. She hated it when boys just _assumed_. She and Klaus haven't officially named what they are, something her friends have been nagging her about. She was resolved to broach the subject tonight, had asked a house elf to deliver a picnic of sorts to her dorm room because she and Klaus had already planned on making only a quick appearance at the after game party and then sneaking off for some _quality_ time. It's looking like it'll be a victorious affair, and not one for commiseration. Slytherin is up by enough points to win even if Hufflepuff manages to catch the snitch (possible, since it's Kol's first year as Seeker).

The crowd lets out a gasp and Caroline's eyes snap up just in time to catch a collision between Klaus and Enzo. Her hands had been twisted in her skirt since the teams had kicked off the pitch and they tighten painfully at this newest near miss. At least Klaus and Enzo right themselves quickly and appear to shake off the incident easily. Caroline might breathe a little easier at the sight but she shoots her best deadly glare at both of them in turn. Enzo's a good friend and Klaus is… well, whatever Klaus is. Enzo catches her eye and grins before tossing her a jaunty wave.

Caroline mentally resolves to slip something embarrassing into his food next time she has the opportunity. Maybe a mild truth potion? She'd do a little research.

Klaus has the grace to look mildly apologetic, softening her ire. Caroline will try to keep her lecture about safety, and _not_ giving her a heart attack, short. Or at least short-ish. She still thought helmets should be a thing.

Caroline resolves to pay more attention to the game and pushes her nagging thoughts away. It was silly to be internally freaking out, she knew. Klaus hadn't done anything to indicate that his answer to the, 'Do you want to be my boyfriend?' question would be anything but an enthusiastic yes.

Besides, he'd put himself out there quite a bit over the last few weeks. It was only fair that Caroline made a leap or two of her own.

* * *

She's curled up on the small sofa in her private dorm engrossed in an issue of Cosmo (the U.K. edition was _way_ better than the one from back home) when she hears the soft glide of the portrait allowing someone entry. The number of people who have her password is tiny and she's only expecting one.

Caroline tips her head back over the arm to watch Klaus walk into the room. His hair's still damp and he's wearing sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his school bag slung over one shoulder. He drops it before bending to press a kiss to her forehead, "Hi," she greets him. Klaus' brows rise as his eyes catch on her magazine and Caroline slams it shut. _Of course_ he happened to walk in when she was reading one of the sex articles. "Party under control?" she asks him.

Klaus grins, and rounds the couch, lifting her legs as he sits and arranging them on his lap. "It seemed fairly tame."

Caroline nods with satisfaction. She'd had some stern words for the prefects, and it seemed like they'd taken her seriously. "Good. I'll have to go check in an hour or two. Make sure the little ones are in bed."

Klaus hums an acknowledgement his hands skimming her bare legs. Caroline shivers when he traces her kneecap, and Klaus looks up as he moves higher, fingers dancing over her inner thighs, his eyes heated and questioning. Caroline kind of wants to slouch down and part her thighs a little more, see where this goes. They've haven't had sex yet but what they have done makes Caroline pretty certain that's a shame. She forces herself to resist the temptation. She had a plan and plans were meant to be followed.

Caroline smiles at him, hoping it reads as reassuring, and sits up, pulling her legs away. She folds them underneath her, resting her back against the arm of the couch so she's facing him. Klaus looks a little confused, his hands hovering for a moment before they fall his lap. "Are you hungry?" she asks brightly.

"A little," he replies, brows furrowed, moving to stand. Caroline shakes her head, and grabs her wand, muttering a spell and floating the small basket their way. It lands on the couch between them and she sets her wand aside before opening it. She hands Klaus a can of butterbeer before digging for the sandwiches she knows the elves had made.

Klaus settles back down on the couch, "Are you feeling alright?" he asks curiously, and she hears a thread of apprehension. "I know we didn't discuss my spending the night. I only brought my things just in case. I know how you feel about preparation. I'm happy to go back to my dorm if you…"

Caroline immediately shakes her head, "No. It's fine, Klaus. Really. I'd like it if you stayed. I just wanted to ask you something. Well, a few somethings."

"Oh," Klaus says, sounding more relaxed. "Ask away, sweetheart."

Caroline tucks her hair behind her ear, glancing up to see him watching her with open interest. "I like you," she blurts out. "And I probably have for a while but just didn't want to admit it because of the douchebag tendencies you were a little too free with."

She cringes, because that wasn't exactly romantic, but Klaus lets out a laugh. "Such sweet talk. I'm flattered."

Caroline sighs, and hands him a sandwich. This was so not the speech she'd rehearsed. "You should be. I'm flattered that you've reined them in and have managed to actually be tolerable. Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Klaus answers quickly, "Yes." Caroline blinks at him in surprise. The look he throws her is disbelieving, "Sweetheart I've made it quite clear that I like you too."

He has. And she's told herself the very same thing. Over and over again.

"What was your other question?" Klaus asks, taking a bite of his sandwich. He's managed to shift over a little bit, her shin pressing against his thigh because of the way her legs are crossed.

Caroline decides that bluntness has worked out for her so far, why not try it again? "Do you want to come home for Christmas with me?"

Klaus is the one left shocked this time, his mouth falling open. Luckily he's already chewed and swallowed. "I…"

Caroline rushes to explain, "I know you were planning on staying here."

A delicate way of putting it.

Klaus had been officially disinvited from the Mikaelsons planned Christmas vacation to Paris. He hadn't seemed too broken up about it when he'd gotten the letter last week but Caroline knew that he and his father did _not_ get along. And that his older brother Elijah had given Klaus a heads up about Mikael's intentions. Apparently, despite the easy access to an improved version of the wolfsbane potion (part of the protections for werewolves found in The Remus Lupin Memorial Act that Hermione Granger had pushed through years ago) that would allow Klaus to change anywhere and pose no threat, his parents insisted that it was too much of a hassle to accommodate his condition in Paris over the holidays.

"I asked my mom last week," Caroline continues, watching Klaus' face carefully. "And she said it would be fine, that she's short staffed anyway and was feeling guilty about not being able to spend much time with me. My dad said changing the portkey is not problem either. There are tons of forests surrounding Mystic Falls so you could go out and run on the full moon. It is a muggle house so I understand if you're not comfortable but I thought…"

His shock had melted away as Caroline spoke, melting into something like awe. Klaus sets his sandwich on the coffee table and reaches for her hand. He tugs and Caroline unfolds her legs. He pulls harder and she finds herself in her lap.

Not that she's complaining.

Klaus' arms wrap around her and he rests his forehead against hers. "I would love nothing more than to spend the holidays with you," Klaus tells her seriously.

Caroline grins and lets out a relieved breath sliding one of her hands into his hair. "Good. Mom says you'll have to sleep in the guest room but I fully intend to sneak you into my room, FYI. I'll show you how to avoid the squeaky spots on the floor."

Klaus' hand glides up her back, under her shirt and Caroline settles more firmly against him. "Looking forward to it," he mumbles, just as his lips brush over hers. Her mouth parts eagerly, welcoming a deeper kiss, and Klaus lets out a low rumble of approval that has her rocking into him. Caroline nods encouragingly as he taps hesitantly on the closure of her bra, leaning back to peel off her sweater.

Caroline totally forgets to check on the party.

She can't be upset that there's a huge mess she has to help clean up the next day. Or even that she's forced to deduct house points which _kills_ her. Not when Klaus pitches in without having to be nagged into it. The sixth and seventh years are shooting the both of them knowing, amused, looks and she's not annoyed by that either. Caroline has to fight a smile every time her eyes meet Klaus'. He doesn't bother trying but then he's not obligated to be disproving.

She's Head Girl. She can't have people thinking wild parties are acceptable, that she'll let it happen again. Last night had been an anomaly. An amazing one, but she'll have to be more responsible in the future. Set an alarm or something.

Kind of unfortunate. Slacking on her duties had never been so fun.

**This One's On Me**

**(Mini follow up to the drabble where Caroline works as a stripper I did for the spring round of klarolineauweek. The original drabble can be found in Chapter 39. It's rated M for smut but this one's K+)**

Klaus really should have known that Kol was up to something. He's kicking himself for not recognizing the signs. To be fair acting the nuisance _was_ Kol's default setting so perhaps it's understandable that he'd not seen this particular bit of nonsense coming.

Caroline will likely disagree.

He and Caroline have been seeing each other for months and Klaus has slowly been introducing her to his family. Elijah first since he was the most likely to be polite. Freya second since she was rather more easygoing than the rest of the lot. Klaus had wavered whether Kol or Rebekah should go next and, after much mental debate, he'd ultimately decided on Kol. Klaus had known his younger brother would no doubt go out of his way to embarrass him, and would likely flirt shamelessly with Caroline, but he still thought him the better option. Caroline could more than handle herself, he rationalized. She had plenty of practice, Klaus knew, with what she deemed 'pervs and creepers.' Kol's brand of lechery should be no problem for her.

Subjecting Caroline to Rebekah's doubtlessly condescending vitriol could wait. Bekah had few female friends. Had managed to despise just about every woman her brothers had ever taken an interest in and was not shy about throwing words like 'tacky trollop' around. Had managed to scare off a fair few dates and girlfriends over the years. Klaus knew Caroline was made of some pretty stern stuff but he thought it best not to risk it just yet.

Mind made up he'd invited Kol over for dinner, had been banking on the fact that the level of intoxication Kol had reached that fateful night at the strip club would prevent him from recognizing Caroline as the stripper who'd once performed a lap dance for him.

Caroline had no qualms about him knowing but Klaus knew that Kol's ability to make things awkward meant they'd need to ease into the truth of her occupation. Kol had absently noted that Caroline looked familiar, brows furrowed in concentration. Caroline had played dumb, wide eyed and innocent, telling Kol that she really didn't think they'd ever met and maybe she just had one of those faces?

Klaus had _thought_ that Kol had bought the lie. Dinner had gone well enough, Kol making the expected borderline offensive comments and Caroline parrying them back. She'd been sweetly venomous and Klaus had thought Kol had seemed almost impressed by the time the night was through. He had assumed his plan had been successful.

Clearly a mistake.

The cab he and Kol were in had just pulled up outside the familiar façade of the club Caroline worked at and Klaus eyed the neon lights with a sinking feeling of dread. Kol hopped out before he could say anything and Klaus briefly considered telling the driver to pull away and leaving Kol behind. Immediately decided against it because that was basically throwing down a challenge, inviting Kol to throw one hell of a scene.

Klaus gets out of the cab slowly, "Why are we hear, Kol?" he asks. There's a slim chance that Kol doesn't actually know anything, merely had a night of debauchery in mind. That's what he'd claimed when he'd banged on Klaus' door earlier, demanding Klaus come out with him. "You've gotten so dull, Niklaus," he'd groaned, helping himself to a drink. "Nearly as bad as Elijah. When was the last time you went out on a weekend?"

Klaus had rolled his eyes, wracked his brain for an excuse. It had been awhile. Caroline spent her weekends in the city, and while Klaus had accompanied her once or twice they'd found it worked better if he didn't. She did her shifts, concentrated on her coursework when she wasn't working and he did the same, freeing them up to spend time together during the week.

The system they'd worked out had been going well and Klaus saw no reason to justify himself to his younger brother. Unfortunately Kol had taken the lack of response as Klaus' acceptance to coming out with him, and when Klaus had attempted refuse he'd threatened to call Rebekah and tell her to come over. And bring that one mousy little friend of hers who blushed and stuttered every time either Kol or Klaus looked in her direction.

Klaus would rather rip out his own fingernails than be subjected to the girl's nervous twitching so he'd reluctantly caved.

And now here he was.

"Pay the man," Kol tells him, nodding to the driver's open window, "And I'll tell you, Nik."

Gritting his teeth Klaus dug out his wallet. Of course he'd been roped into _paying_ too. When the cab's gone Kol throws his arms around Klaus' shoulders, dragging him towards the entrance. He attempts to elbow Kol somewhere uncomfortable but his brother's ensured that the angle's all wrong. "None of that," Kol scolds mockingly. "It's a _gentleman's_ club, Nik. I'm quite certain childish roughhousing is frowned upon."

He recognizes the bouncer. Klaus had seen him around often enough back when he came here every other week. His name's Enzo and Klaus knows Caroline considers him a friend. His eyes light up when he sees Klaus, "Look who's here. Been awhile hasn't it, mate? Gorgeous know you were coming tonight? Because you're not on my list."

Kol answers before Klaus can, "Nope! Thought we'd surprise the lovely Caroline. I remember she put on _quite_ the show the last time I was here. Possibly the finest pair of legs I've ever seen."

Well, Klaus supposed that cleared up exactly what Kol knew.

Enzo looks dubious, "Yeah, that one's not real fond of surprises. There's a great little diner a couple blocks over. Maybe you boys should go get a burger. I'll send her your way when she's done for the night."

Kol laughs dismissively, "What woman doesn't like surprises? We'll just…"

"Caroline," Klaus interrupts. "Bit of a control freak. It's part of her charm." He nods at Enzo, "I'll text her but if you could let her know I stopped by I'd appreciate it." He pulls out of his brother's hold, and walks away. He hears Kol attempt to argue with Enzo, weasel his way in the club. Evidently fails because he's soon jogging to catch up with Klaus. He sounds thoroughly peeved, "What's the point of you screwing a stripper if I can't skip the cover at her club? Honestly."

_That's_ Klaus' breaking point.

He stops dead, shoves Kol into a darkened doorway. Kol bangs into the security grate, lets out a yelp of surprise. "_Don't_ speak of her like that," Klaus grits out.

Kol snorts in disbelief, "Nik. Come on. She's certainly tasty, I'll give you that, but she spends her weekends letting other men paw at her. What's the appeal?"

"It's her job," Klaus clips out. He reaches out, smooths the lapels of Kol's jacket, "And don't you think it's a wee bit hypocritical of you, brother? You were the one frequenting her workplace, were you not? You seemed to have no trouble being one of the men doing the pawing."

Kol's eyes widen, turn gleeful, "Hold on, you actually _like_ this girl."

"Obviously," Klaus drawls. "Would I have bothered subjecting her to _you_ if I didn't?"

"Rude, Niklaus. I am perfectly charming company."

"Yes. It was _so_ charming of you to plan to harass a woman in her workplace."

"I wasn't going to _harass_ her," Kol replies indignantly. "I just thought I might ask for the rest of that lap dance I paid for."

"_You_ didn't pay for anything," Klaus points out. "I did."

Kol grins, "Semantics. It was a birthday gift, was it not? Does that mean she's danced for you?"

Klaus leans in, keeps his tone low and even. It's been quite a while since he and Kol had fought in earnest, not since they were teens. But he's reaching the end of his patience, "Ask me something like that again and I'll tear out your liver and make you eat it. It'll make the carousing your so fond of quite difficult, don't you think?"

Kol's always been smarter than he lets on, hears the threat loud and clear, just as Klaus had meant him to. He leans more heavily into the wall, holding up his hands in a placating gesture, "Fine, fine. Message received."

Klaus isn't quite done. "And should you ever say anything to Caroline that is even the smallest bit offensive to her they'll never find your body. Brother or no."

Kol eyes him curiously, weighing his words. Klaus meets his gaze steadily, allowing Kol see his resolve. Finally he sighs, "So dramatic, Niklaus. You're worse than Rebekah."

He brushes past Klaus, muttering something about wanting a milkshake. Klaus hides a grin as he follows, knowing that he's won. And he'd not even had to resort to blackmail.

Three siblings down, three to go. Then he'd need to tackle his parents. A thought that made Klaus shudder. _That_ was going to be unpleasant. At least, once Caroline had run the gauntlet of his family, he could be confident in her feelings for him.

Klaus was certain that no sane person would bother to nod and smile through all that crazy if they weren't serious about a relationship.

**As One Wishes To Live**

**(Mini sequel to the GenieKlaus drabble from Chapter 18. I do intend to do something more expansive for this one sometime!)**

Caroline panics when she hears keys in the door. She's taken a couple of sick days, thinking it best to deal with the whole genie situation. She'd sent her boss an email with a sob story about a killer bout of stomach flu. She's never done it before, feels a little bad about lying, but her excuse won't be questioned.

Perks of being a kickass employee.

And hey, the truth would have gotten her locked up on a twenty four hour psych hold, and Caroline does not want to deal with that. Even if Klaus could probably break her out with his freaky magic stuff.

"Care?" Bonnie calls, "are you okay? I brought crackers and Gatorade!"

She just hadn't counted on her friends, and their keys to her place, screwing with her plans.

"Hide!" she hisses at Klaus. His eyes widen, face going blank. He nods once, harsh and jerky, before he immediately does that wispy smoky thing, dissipating before her eyes (and seriously, that was never not going to be weird) leaving his lamp rattling on her mantle.

She feels a stab of guilt, because she'd _meant_ for him to go upstairs, having picked up on the revulsion and wariness he seemed to feel for the little metal vessel that had been his home and prison. She'd been asking questions for the last few days, carefully teasing out his story. Caroline had discovered that he'd been dormant for the last sixty years. She cringed just thinking about it. Sometimes Klaus went cold, his answers becoming monosyllabic. He'd never refused to answer her inquiries, even though he'd obviously wanted to at times, and she suspected the obedience too ingrained for now. She'd been quick to change the subject whenever possible, remembering her vow to not be like all the other women who Klaus had been forced to serve.

He'd mentioned that he was bound to follow her orders, that there would be consequences for him if he did not. He'd gone stiff when he'd imparted that knowledge, the words clipped as he refused to meet her eyes. She imagined he'd tested the limits of the magic thoroughly, as stubborn and prideful as he seemed to be. That whatever the punishment doled out was painful if he dreaded it so heavily.

She'd promised herself she wouldn't give him a reason to endure whatever consequences the magic that made him a genie doled out when he attempted to resist it.

Thinking quickly Caroline ruffles her hair, wraps herself in her afghan and slumps down on the couch. She tries to look miserable and queasy, planning on getting Bonnie to leave as soon as possible.

She's under no illusions that her friends won't have to meet Klaus eventually. She's just planning on easing them into it. Maybe mention that she's looking for a roommate, interview a couple candidates for show.

It'll give her time to make up a reasonable background story. Plus, Caroline needs time for Klaus to get acclimated to the world, so he won't make her friends suspicious. So far things from the twenty-first century are hit and miss. He'd turned his nose up at the Keurig before he'd conjured himself a cup of coffee that Caroline had had to admit was way better then what the machine dripped out. Klaus _does_ seem to like the internet. Caroline had been attempting to explain online shopping, thinking that she really needed him to be clothed. He'd picked things he liked when prompted, but had said ordering them wasn't necessary. She'd felt a little dumb when he'd blinked and had been immediately clad in a pair of dark jeans and a Henley. In her defence, this whole magic thing took some getting used to.

She's also going to need to prepare Klaus for Kat. She suspects he can hold his own, senses steel nerves and an implacable will under the sereneness he exudes but she can't help feeling protective. Caroline had seen Kat cheerfully crush weak men under her stilettos, with merely biting words and a toss of her hair, not exerting the slightest effort. Caroline knows her friend well enough to know that she'll put in serious effort if she thinks she's vetting a potential roommate of Caroline's.

The least she can do is try to spare Klaus the worst of that. Since she'd unwittingly made herself his mistress.

Yep, _that_ was still creepy. And a tiny bit hot in a way that made Caroline want to fidget in shame.

Bonnie's head peeks into the living room, expression soft and sympathetic. Caroline musters a grin, makes a show of struggling into a sitting position.

It's not hard to make Bonnie think she's out of it, as distracted as she is, her mind too focused on Klaus' lamp. She's not even sure how she can get him out, knows she has to try to do it without making it a demand.

She'd read the little flash of betrayal in his eyes clearly, even though he'd masked it quickly. She doesn't want to see it again.

**Your Skin Speaks Up**

**(Mini follow up to the second drabble in Chapter 35. In which Caroline mistakenly assumes that Klaus is a prostitute…)**

Caroline checks the peephole (her mother might have died decades ago but years of 'safety first!' Sheriff-y lectures have stuck despite the fact that she's not exactly delicate) after the knock on her apartment door.

It's been a boring day. She'd napped (last night being light on actual sleep, heavy on the exertions), done a little research on a client she had a meeting with tomorrow. Tried to keep her mind from wandering back to the activities that had left her so tired.

Mostly failing, but effort counted, right? It was only natural that she'd been impressed. The guy was 1000 years old. It'd have been weirder if he _hadn't_ had skills between the sheets. And in the shower. And over his very well crafted desk.

Not that Caroline was thinking about it.

When she's greeted by the sight of his royal hybridness himself waiting patiently in her hallway she bites back a curse. She so wasn't prepared to do this so soon.

She'd lucked out – apparently someone had left Klaus' party and gotten a little rowdy in the quarter, something about half a frat house getting eaten – so he'd been called away before the sun was fully up leaving her drowsy and ogling him as he'd hurriedly pulled on clothes. Caroline had been grateful that their sure to be awkward morning after had been cut mercifully short. She'd tiptoed through the corridors intent on avoiding the other Mikaelsons and had made it outside without incident.

She'd flashed home through back alleys and quiet streets telling herself that avoiding Klaus was still an excellent plan.

Caroline should have anticipated that he would be uncooperative. Thwarting her seemed to amuse Klaus greatly.

She makes no move to answer the door, preparing to take a small step back and pretend like she wasn't home. Cowardly? Possibly. But there was not one around to judge her.

The ball of her foot has just hit the floor, the start of her retreat. And then she hears a low chuckle through the wood, amused words following shortly after, "Hybrid, love, remember? I can hear you breathing. Your heart beating. The slick little noise of your tongue on your lip. I remember that last one _very_ fondly."

The annoyed noise spills from her before she can swallow it back. Knowing she's well and truly caught Caroline smooths out her tank top (idly wishing she was wearing something nicer and scolding herself for it), and tries to settle a polite expression on her face, "Can I help you?" she asks him, once she's thrown open the door. "I know I didn't leave anything behind at your place."

"Not strictly true," Klaus counters. "But then there'd be no point in returning your knickers since they were ruined beyond repair."

Caroline grits her teeth because that reminder was the opposite of helpful. "I didn't like those that much anyway," she lies.

Klaus smirks, leaning against her doorframe, "Interesting. I'd be happy to chat about your preferences in that department."

"Creepy. And pass."

He seems amused by the insult, "Not going to invite me in, sweetheart?"

The snort is automatic but it only makes him smile, "No. Definitely not."

"Shame. You were so very chatty last time I was here. I quite enjoyed it. And that silky confection of a robe was delightful. I daresay I'd only enjoy it more now, having touched and tasted all that lovely skin it hinted at.

"Are you seriously going to keep bringing that up?" Caroline asks incredulously. She hates that she's flushed right now but his words, the hungry perusal that had accompanied them, leaves her feeling a smidge overheated.

"I don't see why not. It did work out rather well for me last night. You are magnificent when riled."

"That was a one-time thing," Caroline says firmly. "I still don't like you."

Much like last night Klaus isn't the least bit bothered. "Challenge accepted, love."

Caroline's mouth falls open, "That wasn't a challenge!" she sputters. "God, you're impossible."

"Sentiments my family would likely agree with. Have dinner with me, Caroline."

"Uh, what part of _I don't like you_ makes you think I want to _date_ you?"

He shrugs, holds a finger up in the air, "First, I think you're lying, just a bit. That first night, when you thought I was here to provide a service, you liked me just fine."

"I thought you were kind of an arrogant douche, actually."

"But I made you smile," Klaus argues, annoyingly sure of himself. "And you were comfortable enough to fall asleep in my presence."

And maybe he had a teeny, tiny point there. Still, she's not going to make it easy on him, "I was drunk."

"You're a vampire with some age to you. You can handle a bottle of tequila." She's about to argue but he raises a second finger, "Second, you liked dancing with me."

Also kinda true. Caroline shrugs dismissively, "I like to dance And you're old enough to be really good at it. I remember I liked dancing with your brother that time we got wasted on absinthe. Should I date him?"

There's a flare of annoyance then, hot and fleeting, maybe a hint of yellow in his eyes. "I do need to hear that story, love. From you. As I'm sure you can imagine, Kol's not the most reliable of narrators. But we've veered off topic."

"The topic being the very short list of reasons why you're not as awful as I think you are?"

"Precisely."

"Oh, well, continue. I'm _dying_ of anticipation."

He ignores the heavy sarcasm, leaning forward to tug on a loose curl, "I'm too much of a gentleman to go into detail about the third one. But you must admit you enjoyed my company last night, Caroline. I remember the way you moaned for me all too vividly."

Caroline does too. Which is so totally the problem.

She bats his hand away, takes a step back. Clears her throat, "Yeah, yeah, the sex was kind of mind blowing. But newsflash, we're vampires. It comes with the territory. Now if that's everything…"

Caroline steps back and closes the door before Klaus has the chance to reply. She still hears his softly murmured, "I'll see you around, love," loud and clear.


	53. We Are A Fever

**Notes:** This was supposed to be a quick way to beat writer's block but I am bad at quick. Big thanks to Sophie for looking it over for me!

**We Are A Fever**

**(Prompts: Caroline ties Klaus to the bed + Klaus, 'Love you look...' Caroline, 'Beautiful, I know. Can we get a move on?' Title from U.R.A. Fever by The Kills. SMUT.)**

Gravel crunches in the driveway, quickly followed by the creaking of car doors opening, footsteps making their way up the front steps.

Enzo's back. There doesn't seem to be much urgency, no frantic running or shouts. His task must have been completed. Caroline allows herself a small smile. She's been preparing for a gala while she waits, the girl she'd hired to help her dress working dutifully on arranging her hair. Caroline waves the girl away with a flutter of her fingers. She subsides instantly, moving a few paces away and leaning against the wall. She averts her eyes, doesn't say a word.

Caroline does enjoy it when the help is well trained.

She leans in to inspect the girl's work, nods with approval, as she listens to Enzo and his little helpers troop into the house. She catches a few threads of hushed conversations but nothing that seems to be of much import. She'll require Enzo to make a full report later but Caroline is cautiously pleased that the errand she'd sent her people out on seems to have been successful. If they know what's good for them they'll have followed her directions to the letter.

They'll also avoid scuffing up her floors. She'd _just_ had them refinished and Caroline had torn out hearts for less.

The voices quiet down and Caroline raises her own slightly, makes a demand, "Bring him to me."

The pause that follows her order is brief and no one speaks. Soon Enzo is mounting the stairs to obey it, his heavy tread familiar.

Caroline beckons the girl back and she immediately returns to work, fishing golden hairpins out of her apron. She sets to work twisting Caroline's hair into a low chignon. The dress she's wearing tonight is backless, daring enough that she's sure to get a number of dirty looks from the stuffy humans who think money makes them important who'll be in attendance. Loose hair would only mar the effect. It would be a nuisance, get in her way, if someone were to irritate her enough that eating them was her only option too.

Her door is ajar. "Come right in," she says, letting Enzo know he has permission to enter. He does, a body draped limply over his shoulder. A body she knows _very_ well. Caroline smiles in satisfaction and triumph, meeting Enzo's eyes in the mirror. "I take it things went well?"

"One bite," Enzo tells her, clipped and businesslike. "No fatalities."

Caroline blinks, surprised. Klaus was usually much fiercer, his capacity for violence limitless. He is nearly as feared amongst vampires and witches as Caroline, despite him being only half her age. "Hmm. You must have surprised him," she says absently.

Enzo rolls his eyes, one of the few who'd dare such an act in her presence and possibly the only person who wouldn't be punished for it. Enzo's her oldest sireling, her most loyal. He's also one of a small handful of vampires who rival her in years who's survived to see the 21st century. He's earned leeway, at least in private. Largely because he'd never do such a thing in public.

Enzo doesn't shift under his burden, meets her gaze steadily, "We'll need his blood."

As if she didn't know that. "Within the next forty-eight hours, yes," she tells him dismissively. Her people had been warned about what Klaus was before they'd been sent to collect him. A little suffering for carelessness would be an excellent lesson, Caroline thinks.

Enzo bites back an argument, his jaw clenching. "Shall I secure him in the dungeon?" he asks after a moment.

Caroline grins, "No need. Toss him on the bed, will you? Bonnie kindly reinforced it for me earlier. There are chains in the chest at the end of the bed."

A look crosses Enzo's face, one Caroline would classify as betrayal. Ah, it seemed as though Bonnie had not informed him the spell Caroline had tasked her with. He'd have advised her against it, possibly tried to charm her into refusing. Enzo and Klaus did not get along. Caroline makes a mental note to buy Bonnie something pretty as a reward for her discretion. Enzo drops the body onto the mattress obligingly, if not exactly gently. "You're sure they'll hold him?"

The curl of Caroline's lips turns lascivious, her eyes catching those of the girl fussing with her hair. She flushes slightly, her eyes dropping to the low v of Caroline's robe. An interesting development. If things with Klaus go badly, if he _has_ betrayed her, a pretty distraction wouldn't go amiss. Caroline holds the girls gaze, shifts her shoulder so the silk covering her breasts parts further. The girl's pulse picks up, her hands beginning to shake. Enzo makes an impatient noise and Caroline shifts her attention back to him. "Oh, yes. Klaus and I have tested them _extensively_. He didn't much like being tied down but I can be _very _convincing."

"Not information I needed," Enzo mutters. He nods towards the carved wooden chest, "Am I right in assuming you'd like to do the honors?"

Caroline nods slightly, ignoring the tug of her hair at the motion and the girl's panicked expression as she hurriedly gathers the strands she'd dropped. "I certainly would."

Enzo sighs but steps back, "Will you be needing a ride to the ball? Your usual driver is hallucinating under the influence of werewolf venom but I'm sure I can scrounge up a replacement."

She ignores the mild accusation, "I'll drive myself. Will need to come home early and deal with this… situation."

"I'll have the car brought round." Enzo says as he approaches, eyeing her face carefully. His words come out uncharacteristically hesitant, "You're certain you don't want me to speak to him?"

Caroline stiffens, narrowing her eyes in warning. She _will not_ tolerate her word being second guessed. By _anyone_. "It's not _you_ he's rumored to be plotting against, is it? I will question him. If he's betrayed me I _will_ find out."

"And?" Enzo prods. "Say that he has. What then? Do you really think you can kill him?"

"Yes," Caroline grits out, her tone harsh and allowing no room for argument.

She'll admit to a bit of a soft spot for Klaus. Or Niklaus, as they'd first been introduced. She'd found him compelling at first sight, his cheeks flushed and dust smudged as he'd labored over a marble bust under his disapproving master's eye. She'd interrupted, offered herself as a model. Been sorely tempted to drain the master when he'd interrupted, his eyes running over her curves lasciviously, and said that her form was far too lovely to waste on Niklaus' fumbling attempts. She'd forced herself to smile, charm him into leaving her alone with his student.

They'd spoken for hours, and Caroline had found Niklaus to be far more than just a lovely face and form.

She'd teased out his story, though he was tight lipped when it came to speaking of where he'd come from. Niklaus was more open about his work, and she'd coaxed him into showing her more. Studying his pieces she'd found that his sculptures _were_ subpar but his paintings were quite another story. They were bold and vibrant and evocative. Spectacular. Still were, Caroline assumed, with 500 years of practice, though it has been a very long time since she's seen more than a sketch.

Bidding Niklaus goodnight, that first evening, she'd planned to bed him, as soon as she could manage. Have a little taste, sate her curiosity, and be on her way.

That turned out to be one of the few plans in Caroline's very long life that had gone horribly awry.

She'd touched him first, set her mouth on his in a gentle brush, testing him. It had been like striking a flint, his response heated and immediate. He'd kissed her, forceful and needy, pressed the length of his body to hers. The greed with which his fingers had grasped her skin left her clawing at his, struggling not to tear too deeply into his fragile flesh. His desire had sent fierce waves of an answering need thrumming through her. The power of it was surprising, rare in Caroline's experience. She liked sex, had long since shaken off any shame when it came to enjoying such pleasures. After a few centuries there was rarely anything novel about the act.

Somehow, Niklaus had managed to be thrilling. He could leave her breathless and aching, hungry for more of him.

A single interlude hadn't been enough for her. It had been just the beginning.

Caroline had tempted him away from his work whenever possible, compelling his master not to notice. She'd learned Niklaus' body, the things that left him quivering and straining just on the edge of release. She had adored the sound of his voice, hoarse and pleading for mercy. Caroline taught him the secrets of hers, found him an ardent pupil, until he could have her falling apart with precise strokes of his tongue or fingers against her most sensitive flesh. The way he'd looked at her as she'd moved above him had been addicting. Niklaus had reached out with shaky fingers to touch the veins under her eyes, wide eyed and wondrous instead of fearful, the first time she'd truly allowed herself to lose control with him. Had come when she'd torn into his wrist, back arched sharply off the bed and her name a cry from his lips.

How delicious he'd been.

Caroline hadn't been able to resist collecting him.

She'd explained what she was, what she could do. He'd been fascinated and eager to know more, had peppered her with questions and listened to tales of distant places, the things she'd seen with rapt attention. When she'd described the pure rapturous freedom being a vampire offered, how it allowed her to live by her rule and no one else's, a look of determination had crossed Nicklaus' face. He'd broached the subject himself a few days later, asked her to make him what she was.

Exactly as Caroline had hoped.

She'd turned him and had never managed to regret that decision. His first kill had been a revelation, a traveller on a deserted road. Caroline still remembers the cracking of his bones, the looks of confusion on his face as he'd shuddered and dropped to his knees. The thrum of fear she'd felt when she'd faced off with a wolf, huge, golden eyed and one of the few things capable of truly harming her, had been another novel experience. That sort of terror wasn't something Caroline had felt in centuries. She'd tensed waiting for him to attack but Niklaus hadn't lunged, had merely tipped his head to the side and padded over to her. He'd nosed at her wrist, before bounding into the woods.

He'd reappeared days later, breathless and exuberant with strength greater than any newborn vampire she'd ever known. Niklaus had pinned her to the wall and taken her in a way she'd never allowed anyone else, held her hands above her head while he'd tortured her with slow thrusts and his teeth on her nipple, until she'd used her legs to pin him to her and torn her hands away. She'd bitten him, drank deep, because he'd tasted different. _Better_. He'd moaned and tried to thrust but the vice of her thighs had kept him trapped. Caroline had wriggled her hand in between them to her clit, rubbing frantically until she could come.

When she was finished shaking through the aftershocks she'd licked the blood from his shoulder, untangled their bodies and walked away, leaving Niklaus hard and wanting, with no other option but his hand. A woman sometimes needed to teach a man a difficult lesson.

Hybrid or no, her years made her stronger, any submission on her part had to be _earned_.

When he'd come to her bed that night he'd been more subdued, had coaxed her into kneeling over his mouth and hadn't complained when she'd taken her pleasure on his tongue. More than once, until he'd been sweat slick, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach, his chest moving in sharp jerks as he struggled to breathe through his need.

Once sated Caroline had collapsed, sprawled against his body, his hands stroking her trembling thighs. Still, he'd not made a move to take something for himself and she'd decided he'd earned a reward. Caroline had rolled off of him, returned the favor, taken him in her mouth and swallowed everything he had.

Eventually, he'd earned a little more of her. Niklaus took to his new life with ease and relish. He was quick minded and had a voracious appetite for new experiences. A delightful hedonistic streak. He settled at her side and Caroline had found she did not mind his company. A dozen years passed and she'd not grown bored of him. Not outside the bedroom and _definitely_ not within it. She'd come to allow Niklaus liberties. To enjoy it when he bent her over her bed and whispered imaginative filth in her ear. Taunts about how much she loved his cock, and how he couldn't wait to watch her lick the evidence of how much she needed it away after she came for him. The twinges of pain as he pulled her hair, dug his blunt teeth into her shoulder made her hotter. She let him come on her skin, rub his scent in until she was marked by it.

All acts she'd never even thought to allow a lover before, some she'd have killed if they thought to ask for.

Caroline had been shocked by how much she'd liked them, came to crave the weight of him pinning her down even if it was only an illusion.

As satisfying as the roughness was there was usually sweetness afterwards. That, more than anything, was what came to scare Caroline. Niklaus would pull her into him, wrap himself around her, whisper words of contentment into her skin. One night she'd found herself humming, told Niklaus that it was a song her mother used to sing to her as a girl when he'd murmured that her voice was pretty.

Caroline hadn't even _thought_ about it.

It wasn't something she'd ever done with a lover, or even one of her few friends. Confidences in the afterglow, intimacy. Such things were dangerous. Caroline guarded secrets, _truths_, carefully because there were all manner of people who would use them against her if given the opportunity. That Niklaus had been gifted one so easily gave her pause.

Niklaus was so young, so easily broken. It would be a shame if he died for her. Even worse if he was one of those who would come to lust for power, assume that Caroline's sex meant it would be easy for him to take hers and call it his own.

Her own husband had assumed such things. He might have been right when Caroline had been a weak girl, married off to merge their families, consolidate their father's power. He'd been so very wrong when the spell Caroline's dear friend had weaved to protect her from her husband's rough hands and unwelcome attentions had made her stronger than him. His blood had called to her, his harsh words about her _place_ left her in an angry haze.

He'd died screaming between her teeth and Caroline hadn't even been sorry about it.

Times changed. Men didn't. A fact Caroline would do well to remember.

Caroline had destroyed many men for holding the same beliefs, for arrogantly thinking that she was easily manipulated. She'd hate to have to do the same to Niklaus, should he become ambitions.

She would, if need be. To protect what she'd built, all that she'd achieved.

Lying awake that night, listening to Niklaus breathe, Caroline had come to the realization that she had to send him away, unravel the ties that had been tightening between them before she was unable to make herself. She'd grown cold, affected boredom. Treated him like the pup that his scant years made him, dismissed him from her bed except when she'd had need of him.

Made sure she had need of him less and less. Took others to her bed while he listened, reacted with cool amusement to his anger in the mornings which only fueled his rage.

Niklaus had been stubborn, had lasted far longer than she'd expected. They'd ended in a blaze of glory, shouts and smashed furniture, books thrown and fine china shattered. He'd stormed out of her home with nothing but his clothes. Managed to dodge those she sent to check on him, leaving her with only the scantest of reports about his doings.

Caroline hadn't seen him for eighty-three years.

Until Paris.

On a street corner of all places. At the time she'd thought it a coincidence, though she'd long since begun to suspect he'd had a hand in orchestrating their meeting. Niklaus' hair had been shorter, his clothes finer. The dimples and knowing eyes exactly the same. Caroline had blinked at him quite stupidly too shocked by how deeply she'd _missed_ him to manage a greeting. Niklaus had grinned and greeted her like an old friend, pressed his lips to her cheek, brushed a hand over her waist. Informed Caroline that it was 'Klaus' now, that he'd been busy. And did she want to come to his show?

Not, Caroline was ashamed to admit, the first or the last time Klaus had caught her off guard.

They'd been in bed together before nightfall, hours of exchanging heated glances and brief touches leaving them uncaring of all the eyes on them, the titters about how improper they were being. They'd rushed out of the gallery he'd been showing at and made quite a stir.

Caroline rarely cared for the opinions of humans. Klaus, it seemed , had come to join her in that.

She'd found that he'd learned all sorts of new things and forgotten none of what she'd liked best. That he still had all of that maddening intensity that Caroline had first been drawn to. She'd allowed herself a week of him before she'd moved on.

The name change had been helpful for her. Allowed Caroline to separate what Niklaus had been to her from who was Klaus now. She was careful about lapses, her reasons for cutting him loose still fresh in her mind. Though sometimes Caroline slipped, the intimacy creeping back into quiet moments, when Klaus' hands were in her hair, his skin warm on hers, and no one else could see or hear them.

They never spoke of the soft moments in the daylight and Caroline pretended they hadn't happened.

Even when they kept happening.

Meetings were inevitable. New vampires were made all the time but one had to keep track of one's acquaintances. She spent another week with Klaus fourteen years later. Ten days, a decade after that. Again and again it happened. Caroline took little bites of him over the centuries, savoring them like a favorite treat, cataloguing changes, watching Klaus become more than she'd ever imagined.

Never letting herself even consider lingering beyond the time she'd allotted herself. They were the tiniest moments, she justified. Barely worth considering.

She'd be fine if they were no more.

Caroline shakes herself, catches Enzo's knowing gaze and lets her expression harden. Soft spot or no there were some things that were unforgivable. Disloyalty to her was a death sentence, Klaus was clever enough to know that and the fact that she enjoyed him would not save him from consequences. She speaks softly, injecting enough steel and fire to prevent further questions, "If the rumors are correct and he's behind the little coup that we've heard whispers of he will _die_. By my hand, looking into my eyes. That is my final word, Lorenzo."

Enzo's been with her for nearly nine hundred years. He's earned her respect but he knows better than anyone when not to push. He stoops, rests a hand on her shoulder and presses a quick affectionate kiss to the crown of her head, "As you wish, Gorgeous."

Caroline softens slightly and they share a smile before he turns to leave, shutting the door behind him. The room is silent as Caroline's hair is finished. "All done," the girl tells her shyly. "Do you like it?"

It's exactly what they'd agreed upon, and Caroline finds herself pleased. She turns and rises, letting her unbound barely covered breasts brush against the girl as she comes to her full height. The girl shivers, bites her lip as her eyes flit up to Caroline's. She pitches her voice sweet, reaches out to ghost her fingers over the rapid pulse beating in the girl's throat, "It's lovely. Thank you. Be a dear and stick around, would you? Just in case I need help taking it down later."

The girl's eyes dart away shyly, her color deepening. She nods before excusing herself, taking one last look at Caroline before she leaves.

Caroline turns her interest to the figure on the bed before the door is even shut. Klaus had landed half on his side, his legs hanging off the bed and arms at awkward angles. He's pale and peaceful looking, eyes closed and the fire in him banked. She's enjoyed having him at her mercy over the years, bucking and straining underneath her, biting his lips bloody to keep from begging.

This is different, and Caroline's not sure she likes it.

There _is_ blood smeared on his mouth, splattered across his light grey shirt. Damn her weakness but she's itching to lick it off.

Forcing her thoughts to remain business like Caroline stalks to the bed, digs out the chains that she needs. She arranges Klaus' body brusquely, not allowing her hands to linger. She hauls him up so he's slumped against the headboard, attaches an arm to either post. Roughly tugs off his boots and secures his legs. Takes a step back to admire her handiwork, tugging absently on the thick links. They don't budge, confirming what she'd told Enzo. Klaus wouldn't be going anywhere without her permission.

Satisfied, Caroline turns to her closet. She's got a ball to crash, a recalcitrant prime minister to charm and compel. A finance minister to kill. It'll be a busy evening. She's grateful for the distraction.

Klaus will be dead to the world for another few hours while his spine heals. When she returns she'll ask him what she needs to know, let his answers guide how she acts.

He won't be happy about his position. If he's betrayed her he'll be dead before it can matter. If he hasn't, well… Caroline's sure she can think of some mutually satisfying way to soothe his ruffled feathers.

* * *

The house is very still when Caroline returns, the click of her heels loud in the silence. She doesn't bother with the lights, makes her way up the stairs, tugging off her heavy earrings as she goes. She feels drained, stiff and numb from boredom. Nothing sucked the life out of her like petty human politics.

She hears Klaus breathing when she clears the landing to her floor and smiles in anticipation.

He's inhaling and exhaling at deliberately even intervals, a touch too loudly to be natural. She recognizes the efforts he's making in managing his temper. Klaus has learned control beautifully, she'll admit. He'd been so impulsive, once upon a time, wore every emotion plainly, his expressions and body language easy to pick apart. That's been tempered with age and experience. He still flares hot sometimes, loses control in spectacular rages, but he can channel it. Lets it fuel him. His emotions are a tool, Caroline thinks, something he uses to make people uneasy and off balance, confused and fearful about what he's capable of.

Caroline squares her shoulders and smooths her face, preparing to do battle. It's been ages since she's had a worthy opponent and she's looking forward to squaring off with Klaus. She breezes into the room, notes the tightening of his muscles as she crosses the threshold. It's minor, something most of his adversaries wouldn't have noticed.

Caroline does. She's been playing these games for a very long time.

Klaus recognizes the mistake, and he relaxes immediately, adopting a bored expression. He eyes her appreciatively, "Love, you look…"

"Beautiful?" Caroline interrupts flatly. If he thought sweet talk was going to work he had another thing coming. "I know. I had this dress custom made. Compelled the designer to never make another like it. I don't need your compliments, Klaus. You know why you're here." She saunters over to the bed, stands at the side of it, looking down at him imperiously in a way he must _hate_.

"Do I?" he drawls, not an ounce of discomfiture showing. "Because I am at a loss, sweetheart. I didn't even know _you_ were here. Would have showed up to welcome you to the neighborhood all proper like."

Caroline scoffs, "Yes, I'm sure you'd have brought the very best of muffin baskets."

Klaus is not put off by her sarcasm, continuing his casual recital, "Imagine my surprise when your little witch pet stormed my house and applied aneurysms without even a polite, 'Good evening.' I had your minions coming at me in a wave and no idea what I'd done to deserve the hostility."

"I don't take kindly to you injuring my people," Caroline tells him severely.

Klaus is unrepentant, lifting a shoulder, managing an air of regality despite his bindings, "He wasn't one you liked. I'll have you know I had a clear shot at Enzo. Could have taken his head. But I refrained because I knew you'd miss him. Why, I'll never know."

"I don't miss people," Caroline corrects. She begins to unpin her hair and Klaus' eyes follow the motions, watching her curls fall about her shoulders with great interest.

He'd always liked her hair down.

"Liar," Klaus accuses. It curls softly from his lips, an endearment rather than an accusation.

Caroline lets it go, eases herself on to the bed, the high slit in her dress parting as she curls her legs under her. She sets a hand lightly on his chest, drums her fingers against the soft cotton, "We need to talk, Klaus. I've heard things. Things I don't like."

There's the slightest furrow between his brows. It reads as confusion, but Caroline knows what an accomplished liar Klaus is. He'd learned from her, after all. She could parry and cajole, knows he'd play games with her for hours if she was inclined. Caroline finds she wants concrete answers, her resolve to be harsh already blurring with him next to her.

Lightning fast she reaches out, forces Klaus' head to the side and strikes. She bites deep into his throat, and Klaus fights against her hold, moving as much as he can, his groan of pain rumbling through where they're pressed together.

It's immediately clear that he's not on vervain and Caroline allows herself a few more mouthfuls for the pleasure of his taste before she pulls away.

She doesn't go far.

Caroline plants a hand next to his head, uses her grip on his chin to direct his eyes to hers. He meets her gaze without flinching, anger kindling in his eyes, the ring of gold a warning she ignores. Her eyes dilate, preparing to force her compulsion on him, and she speaks evenly, "Have you betrayed me, Niklaus?"

He doesn't try to fight her, his eyes going unfocused. She's often wondered if he could learn, if he could tap into the same sort of immunity to compulsion that other wolves have. Becoming a vampire before discovering he was a wolf has left him vulnerable to her abilities like all other vampires. She'll have to ask him if he's ever thought to try. "I would never," he murmurs, before his eyes snap back to normal. There's a touch of resentment there and his teeth grit together audibly.

Caroline ducks down, kisses along his tight jaw before licking the closing wound at his throat. He lets out a hiss, his head tipping back at the rasp of her tongue. "Interesting," Caroline replies, as she pulls back. "I suppose that means I don't have to kill you."

His laugh is brittle, "Comforting, love. "

She catches his gaze again, feels him stiffen, "What do you know of Lucien Castle?"

Again, Klaus answers easily. "I turned him. Nearly three hundred years ago. It's been at least sixty since I've seen him."

"Seen him?" Caroline presses. Compulsion is not infallible. Intelligence could allow for some workarounds and Klaus had plenty of that. "Have you communicated with him in any way, shape, or form since then?"

His exhale is annoyed, "I have not. I haven't spoken to him. Or exchanged letters or emails or texts. He became grasping, had ambitions I could not support. I cut ties."

"So you've no idea why he's planting little tidbits of information about you? That you think you could run things far better than I? That you have secrets hidden in Chicago?"

He goes rigid when the city's name falls from her lips and Caroline's nails dig into his jaw deep enough to draw blood. She ignores the tantalizing scent, mesmerized by the reaction. It seemed Klaus had a secret after all. He tries to pull away but it's fruitless. "Shh," she croons, attempting to soothe. "You said you haven't betrayed me. How bad could it really be?"

Klaus glares, "It's none of your concern," he spits out venomously. "It's my affair. I've handled it for centuries. It's never touched you and it _won't_. Haven't I earned a little bit of _trust_? I've never asked you for a thing, love. How many others can say the same? If you force this from me, Caroline…"

He doesn't finish his sentence and the threat dangles, his eyes burning into hers, his frame a rigid line against her.

It's not something he's ever done before, even though they're no stranger to disagreements. The ultimatum gives Caroline pause. They're on an edge, narrow and precarious. She's always been the one to push Klaus away, to prioritize what she's spent a thousand years building over what she could feel for him if she allowed herself to welcome him past the walls she maintains.

If she does this, compels the truth he's hiding, she senses it will be an end. That he might no longer react to the idea of working against her with distaste and that Caroline might very well need to kill him one day.

She finds it's not an eventuality she wishes to contemplate.

Decision made Caroline lets go of Klaus, folds her hands in her lap. Tips her head to the side so her hair falls over her shoulder, "Would you tell me? If I asked you?"

He shakes his head, "Now? No. Someday? It's possible."

Caroline lets that settle. It's easy enough to read between the lines. Klaus doesn't trust her. Understandable, since she'd only just realized that _she_ trusts _him_. The chains clink against the posts of the bed and Caroline watches the restless flexing of his arm with interest. She reaches out and scrapes a fingernail down his forearm. Klaus fights a shiver and when she looks down he's watching her expectantly. "Well?" he prompts, licking his lips. "Would you mind releasing me? Since I do believe the interrogation is over. "

She _could_. Except there's something she wants more.

Caroline grins mischievously before she bites her lower lip, shifting smoothly onto her knees. She throws one leg over his hip and settles down against him with languid movements. "Caroline," Klaus grits out warningly.

She rests her hands on his stomach, slides them up his chest as she absently rocks against him, kindling arousal in them both. Klaus turns to stone beneath her, lashes fluttering as he fights not to react. "I was thinking," Caroline muses, tracing his muscles gently through his shirt, "that you might want to help me track down Mr. Castle. Since it's your good name he's been dragging through the mud."

It's an overture. A tentative partnership offer. Nothing like she's ever offered him before. Caroline keeps her life compartmentalized. Klaus has always been one of her indulgences. She's never allowed him into the more unpleasant aspects that arose from being the first of their kind. She assumes he's well aware of the things she's done. Just as she's aware that Klaus' hands are far from squeaky clean.

No one's were, after a decade or two of requiring blood to survive, let alone a century or more.

Klaus' reply comes out raspy, though that might have something to do with the press of her pussy against his hardening cock. It's still trapped behind denim as she rolls her hips against him in lazy waves. "He's not stupid, love. Might make us give chase."

Klaus shifts up against her, eyes hot and focused on her face. It's a deliberate movement and the ridge of his zipper catches on her clit through the scrap of lace she wears, sending sparks shooting up her spine.

Caroline supposed she wouldn't be needing the servant girl. Unless she and Klaus got hungry.

She sits up and Klaus lets out a noise of protest once she's no longer pressed against him. It fades when she reaches behind her, the sound of her zipper loud in the room. Caroline reaches under the hem of her dress, peels it up her body. Tosses it over the side of the bed.

"I like the chase," she tells him. Right before she rips off his shirt. She flings it behind her, unconcerned where it had landed. It's thoroughly ruined and she's too busy licking up the traces of blood that had slid down his throat when she'd bitten him.

She scrapes her teeth along his collarbone, relishes the, "Fuck, Caroline," he pants out harshly as her hands fumble with his belt. She smiles against his skin briefly before she makes her way down. He tugs on the chains more purposefully. "Untie me," he demands.

Caroline glances up, raising a brow imperiously. She bites down on his nipple playfully, and he jolts up. "Not yet," she tells him, dragging her lips down her abs. "I like how you look like this."

He tries to protest but it comes out garbled when she traces his hipbone with her tongue. His jeans are shredded easily under her hands and he'd worn nothing underneath. She grasps his cock, one hand tight around the base of him, the other teasing his balls just the way he likes. Caroline breathes against him for a moment and Klaus' legs twitch. She swirls her tongue around the tip before sucking him into her mouth.

Klaus tries to thrash, his movements jerky when she sucks hard, and she's grateful that he's limited by the chains. It really would be a shame if she had to use one hand to hold him down. Not when his reactions are so very delightful. She works him up quickly, using lips and tongue and teeth until his skin has a sheen of sweat and his frantic movements have the sheets twisted under him. He curses, in several languages, chants her name in between. He's on the edge, throbbing against her tongue, when she pulls back, hollowing her cheeks for one final hard suck.

"Not yet, Niklaus. Did you think I would make it so easy on you?"

The noise he makes is almost a howl and Caroline sinks her teeth into his thigh.

He glances down at her, chest heaving, eyes cloudy. "Caroline…" he bites his lip before the rest comes out and Caroline grins up at him. He'd been just about to beg her, she's certain. He will, soon. She won't take him inside of her before and she knows she won't be able to deny herself for very long.

Caroline crawls up his body, leisurely, finding spots that make him shiver when she applies kisses and strokes. She tears away her panties so she's as bare as he is. Lingers when their hips are aligned. His cock nudges at her folds and she tips her hips and presses against him. His length slips along her folds as she teases them both, reaching down to press him more tightly to her. Caroline's head bows as she rolls her hips, her hair dragging over his heaving chest. He feels so good, the head of his cock nudging against her clit.

Caroline has plans, and coming like this is not among them. She stills, glances up to find him watching her, his lips parted and wet. He smiles, though it's not as confident as he likely wishes it was, "So close already, sweetheart? And I've not even done anything."

He really should know better than to taunt her.

His cock is soaked in her arousal as she moves on, and she wraps a hand around him, allowing one firm stroke, thumb brushing the head roughly. Klaus grunts, and Caroline sits up when she's straddling his chest, pouts down at him as leans over to rub his shoulders and arms. They're tight with strain, his hands clenched around her headboard.

He looks mutinous and Caroline bites back a grin. Oh, how she loves this game.

She moves slowly bringing one hand to her breast, the other dropping between her splayed thighs. Caroline lets out a sigh, eyes drifting to half-mast when she pinches her nipple, a single finger teasing her clit. Klaus' eyes dart down to watch, and Caroline leans back slightly to make it easier for him, circling faster.

Never let it be said that Caroline Forbes wasn't _generous_.

His voice is hoarse, the cords of his neck visible, "Caroline," he hisses out.

"Klaus," she returns. It's breathy, her body beginning to move, seeking friction against his skin. "You know how this goes. Beg me to fuck you and I will. Happily. Until I come on your cock and allow you let go and follow me."

He shakes his head, but his eyes are glued to the sight of her touching herself. She sinks two fingers inside with a groan, her hips rocking against her hand frantically so her palm rubs her clit. She's dripping, can feel that his skin is slickened with her arousal.

Not many people resist her. It's always made her hot when Klaus manages it.

She tugs her hand away, though her clenching body protests, paints his lips with her wetness before ducking down to take them in a filthy kiss, moaning when his tongue darts out to taste, pushing into her mouth and trying to take over. She allows it, for a moment, and then pulls away with a breathless laugh.

"Nice try. I want the words, Klaus. I won't even make you say please. This time."

She hears his teeth grind together, feels his resistance crumbling. The words are guttural, bitten out from deep in his throat. But they do come, "Fuck me, Caroline," he manages, gold bleeding into his eyes.

She's off of him in an instant and his moan is pained, eyes going wide and pleading. Until Caroline flashes to the dressing table where she'd stowed the key to his manacles. She hurriedly uncuffs him, distantly wondering why she'd felt the need to. Until Klaus is yanking her back into his lap, sitting up and banding his arms around her back.

This is better.

Caroline luxuriates in the feel of his skin on hers, head tipping back and eyes closing to savor it. They're both fever hot, skin slick with sweat, and they slide together easily as he brings her down onto his cock. Klaus wraps his lips around her nipple, his hands digging into her ass and urging her to move.

They set a snapping pace, rough and frantic. Caroline's distantly glad for the magical reinforcements on her bed because the frame is soon slamming into the wall. She buries her face in his shoulder to muffle her moans, nails scoring his back as her climax builds. Everything tightens, her limbs quiver as the sensations spread. Klaus grits out another curse, hand tunneling between them to pinch her clit. "More," he rasps. "Give me more, Caroline." Their motions quicken impossibly faster and Caroline shouts when the tension snaps, her body shaking against his. Klaus stiffens, sinks his teeth into her throat, hips locked to hers as he rides out his own climax.

She runs her hands through his hair as he drinks, the pull sending another pang of want through her. Caroline squirms on his lap and Klaus chuckles softly before he pulls away and falls back on the bed. Caroline slumps boneless and sated onto him, both of them breathing harshly and erratically. One of his hands strokes down her back, and she lets out a contented hum that turns into a smile when she feels him stirring against her thigh.

It really has been too long. And maybe she did lie when she claimed she never missed people.

"I have no idea where I dropped the key," she tells him, stretching lazily along his body, her legs falling into the space between his splayed thighs.

His snort is amused and his hands don't cease their movements, "Luckily it couldn't have gone far."

She presses a kiss to his chest, the birds he's gotten inked there sometime since the last time she's seen him. She'll have to ask him about them later. "Any idea where to start looking for Lucien? I'm assuming Chicago is off the table."

"For now," Klaus agrees. "I'll make some calls tomorrow. You'll do the same?"

Caroline makes an affirmative noise, finding other matters more pressing.

Klaus tugs her hair until she looks up at him and there's something new in his smile, "Excellent. I think we'll make a good team, love."

Caroline has a sneaking suspicion that Klaus is right. It's not even the first time she's had the same thought. They complement each other, in all sorts of ways. Usually she can convince herself that it's a bad thing.

Right now, with his hands drawing her close, Caroline finds that the usual arguments are fuzzy. When he opens his mouth under hers, shifting to the side so he can bring his fingers between them to roll her nipple, she finds her will to search for them eroded.

Maybe she'll try again tomorrow.


	54. An Insatiable Curiosity

**Notes: **Another crack at Regency. Because I love it shamelessly.

**An Insatiable Curiosity**

**(Prompt: Inexperienced Caroline asks Klaus for tips/lessons of the sexual kind ;) SMUT.)**

His quiet snort drew her wandering attention and Caroline's eyes snapped to Klaus. She surveyed him for a moment, his bright eyes and mirthful expression. He said nothing, merely raised a brow and drew her a bit closer. "_What_?" she finally asked, annoyed and making no effort to soften her biting tone.

Klaus showed no offense, "You're staring, love. Appear rather close to salivating. Aren't young ladies supposed to be demure? What would your mother say if she saw you eyeing Young Lord Lockwood like a particularly scrumptious jam tart that you wished to inhale?"

Caroline lifted up on her toes to scan the room. She could grudgingly admit that Klaus had a point. Her mother _would_ reprimand her, list all the ways she was uncouth, and Caroline would rather avoid such a conversation. Lord knew she endured enough of them. Luck was on her side and her mother is paying Caroline and Klaus little attention, engrossed in a conversation with Lady Gilbert by the punch bowl.

The lack of concern on her mother's part was to be expected. Klaus was considered eligible despite being a third son. He came from one of the wealthiest families in the ton. His father had power and influence to spare. The close relationship between their families, however, meant that Klaus was not subjected to the hawkish scrutiny her mother treated other single men to when they neared Caroline. Her mother _trusted_ Klaus, which was most inconvenient at the moment. She could see him smirking at her as he waited for her to reply with an air of bored patience. There would be no gentlemanly, _polite_, changing of the subject until she answered his taunt.

She knew better than to expect such niceties from Klaus. Lately it seemed as if he _enjoyed_ making her blush, that he put a great deal of effort into leaving her tongue tied and fuming with pointed words and clever barbs. He watched her avidly every time they spoke, cataloguing her reactions, with an intensity that had been absent when they were younger.

The Mikaelson estate bordered Caroline's father's land and their London homes were also closely situated. Rebekah was her dearest friend, Kol an old playmate, and she and Klaus had been sniping at each other since she learned how to talk.

Honestly, he was so overbearing. Thought he knew everything. He had caught her early in the evening, scribbled his name in her dance card, for several dances, with a blandly polite expression that Caroline found infuriating pasted on his overly handsome face. She could see the amusement underneath, even if her mother could not. She had been obliged to take his arm and let him lead her on to the floor when he had approached her to claim the first set.

At least he was actually a capable dance partner. She was not looking forward to having Mr. Stefan Salvatore tread all over her new slippers later on.

Secure in the knowledge that her attentions to Tyler remained a secret from her mother Caroline turned her gaze back to Klaus, "I was doing nothing of the sort," she sniffed. "I was merely surprised to see Ty… Lord Lockwood. I hadn't known he would be in London for the season. Last I heard he and Kol were having a grand time in Italy."

He had grown from the boy Caroline had met all those summers ago. A school friend of Kol's, Tyler Lockwood had spent occasional holidays with the Mikaelsons. It was how he and Caroline had become acquainted. She recalled the fun they had had, tearing through the orchards under the less than watchful eyes of the Mikaelson's elderly nursemaid who was tasked with minding Rebekah. Lord and Lady Mikaelson travelled often and Caroline had adored the freedom their home offered her. Remembers rushing through her lessons so she could race over and join their exuberant madness.

Tyler had been her first kiss, a hurried clash of lips and a knocking of teeth under an apple tree at twilight. It hadn't made her see stars or fireworks like the silly volumes her father's secretary snuck her (that Caroline hid from her mother) said a kiss should. Caroline rationalized that such things might take practice.

Klaus laughed, "Lady Lockwood recalled him last month. Kol is still carousing. I only hope he has not caught anything serious."

Caroline's brows furrowed in worry, "Has he written that he's taken ill? Is he coming home?"

Infuriatingly, Klaus only laughed harder, his head tipped back. She found herself staring at his throat, the two moles she had never really noticed before and the faint brush of hair along his jaw. She hurriedly averted his eyes when he calmed. His next words were spoken conspiratorially, "The illness I was speaking of is _not_ the sort a man writes to his family about, love. Mother must be kept in the dark about his dalliances with actresses and prostitutes."

Caroline sucked in a scandalized breath, "Klaus!" she admonished. "Don't say such things about your brother."

His hand slipped down her back, too low to be proper, and Caroline stiffened. Klaus pressed even closer, his voice dropping as he spoke close to her ear, "Such innocence. I recommend you set your sights on someone other than Lord Lockwood, sweetheart. From what I've heard his tastes will positively _scandalize_ you. How about young Mr. Donovan? He seems… sweet, if a bit dim."

Caroline bristled at the implication that she was some shy gentle maid. Her mother was forever scolding her for speaking her mind, for being too curious. How dare Klaus imply that she was meek? She pushed away from him, straightened her spine and shot him a narrow eyed glare, "Perhaps I find such things intriguing. My maid has been _quite_ helpful in illuminating the marriage acts."

Not a lie. Katerina was filled with all sorts of information that Caroline was certain her mother would never impart. Some of it sounded uncomfortable, even unpleasant. Other things, the sensations that had been described… well, Caroline got a bit warm just thinking of it.

"Has she?" Klaus questioned doubtfully.

Caroline fought the urge to purposefully stomp on his foot at the way he obviously doubted her and adopted a breezy tone, "Oh, yes. I have been told it can be most unpleasant of course but Katerina insists that does not have to be the case. That a man with skill can make it rapturous for a lady. Perhaps those experiences you disparage make Tyler an even better catch, hmm? 'Handsomeness fades, fortunes dwindle, but a man who knows how to use his mouth only gets better with age,' Katerina says."

Klaus' eyes blazed, his jaw clenched tight and his hands squeezed her corseted waist so tightly she imagined she could feel each individual fingertip. She had ceased to pay much attention to the dance, secure in Klaus' ability to lead, and her own ease with the familiar steps. Too focused on their conversation Caroline had not noticed that they had come to skirt the edge of the ballroom. Until now. There was a thread of anger in Klaus' tone when he spoke again, "Your maid is most improper."

Caroline lifted her chin at the accusation, "Maybe. But isn't it better I be prepared? That I am not terrified on my wedding night, considering what I am required to do? I would have never known my husband would expect me to be _naked_ if Katerina had not informed me."

She was talking too much. Yet another bad habit her mother was constantly nagging her to break.

Klaus was watching her, a brow raised, and her cheeks felt hot. Caroline wished that her hair was not arranged so carefully because there was no way she could hide her blush from him. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath to regain her composure, "I find it stuffy," she announced. "I think I'll take a turn about the garden."

She should have asked her mother for permission. Perhaps found Rebekah or Bonnie and pleaded with them to accompany her. But Caroline did not. She turned on her heel and made for one of the doors that lined the room and led out onto the veranda. Caroline took the steps from the ballroom at a quick pace, and inhaled the cool evening air gratefully, willed her racing heart to slow. She heard footsteps following her, _knew_ they belonged to Klaus. She closed her eyes and fought back a groan. Whatever had possessed her to _say_ such things to him? He would tease her endlessly. She peeked over her shoulder in defeat, "_Please_ say you won't tell my mother what Katerina has been teaching me. I would miss her terribly. Her eye for dresses is unparalleled. And it is not as if I am _doing_ anything. Merely… learning."

Klaus softened slightly, his lips quirking. His eyes took in her sky blue gown, lingered over the curve of her waist, his admiration clear, "Did she select that one?"

"She did. Said it was the latest style from Paris."

He made a show of thinking her request over before he tilted his head, "You do look ravishing, sweetheart. I suppose it would be a shame to get your maid fired."

Caroline grinned, relieved. "Thank you, Klaus."

He came up beside her, leaned down to rest his forearms atop the stone railing. Caroline watched him from the corner of her eye, noted the way the fine fabric of his evening coat stretched across his shoulders. Klaus cleared his throat, chanced a glance at her. Caroline looked away, embarrassed to have been caught, and twisted her gloved hands together in front of her. "If we are being scandalous," Klaus said conversationally, after a long moment, "might I offer an opinion?"

"I suppose…" Caroline replied hesitantly.

"Those wild oats Tyler Lockwood has been busy sowing do not make him a good candidate for those… activities your maid has spoken of. Actresses and prostitutes do not expect a man to be talented. They merely expect trinkets that are easily resold."

"Speaking from experience are you?" Caroline asked archly, as she allowed herself lean next to him.

Klaus bit back a smile, eyes downcast, "I did my own tour of the continent, yes."

Caroline remembered. Klaus had been excellent at writing letters, his descriptions of the sights rich and detailed. She had greedily read each missive he had sent to Rebekah, wishing that she could someday see the same things. She was unable to help the wistful little sigh that escaped her and Klaus noticed, turning to look at her fully. He studied her face, read her thoughts accurately, "Would you like to travel, Caroline?"

She found herself nodding, probably too eagerly, "Oh, yes. I've never been anywhere. My parent's get dreadfully seasick. What was your favorite place?"

Klaus took a moment to consider, "The art in Italy was exquisite. Greece was fascinating. I think you would prefer Paris, however."

"I want to see them all," Caroline said, soft and fervent. "I only hope my husband is amenable."

"The right husband would be. He would see how deeply you desire it and take you wherever you wanted to go. And I'm not speaking merely of travelling. There are heaps of discoveries to be made in the bedroom. I'm sure your ladies maid could not possibly have described them all.

Caroline dropped her eyes, "_You_ certainly seem well informed."

"I feel no shame in pleasure, love. I do not believe you would either. Not with the way you appear to hunger for new experiences. The tiniest taste is all you would need and you would be eager to discover more."

Caroline was unsure how to respond, only knew that there was something thrilling about his words. His careful enunciation did nothing to hide how his voice had deepened and he had shifted over the smallest amount. She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. Of how she could feel the warmth of him, the faint scratch of the wool of his coat brushing her arm where her skin was left bare above her glove. He smelled of soap, the faintest hint of sandalwood and spice. It was pleasant, and Caroline found herself drifting closer as she wondered what Klaus would do if she touched him.

Some men, Katerina had informed Caroline, liked it when a woman took charge. Liked it when a woman told them what she wanted, moved atop them with abandon. Would Klaus be one of those men?

Caroline hesitated, took a look at the ballroom over her shoulder. Crushes of people were still dancing, brightly colored silks floated rapidly past the windows, and it certainly seemed as if no one had missed her. Could she dare a little more? She licked her lips and noted how Klaus watched the movement, blue eyes dark and heated. Her heart sped when his mouth parted in response.

She was certain he wanted to kiss her. Found that she wanted him to.

Perhaps this was her opportunity to see if fireworks were truly possible?

"Come with me," Caroline whispered, before she whirled and moved deeper into the gardens.

Oh, how her mother would lecture if she knew what Caroline was about to do. She was delighted when Klaus was quick to follow, his boots scraped against the stone pathway in time with her rapid steps. They took corners and turns in silence, and the light grew dim, only that of the moon and stars remaining to show the path. Caroline stilled, turned to Klaus and he stumbled into her. His hands groped at her hips in an attempt to rebalance them and she let out yelp when a branch scratched the back of her neck. Klaus pulled her into him, crushing her against his lean frame. "I am sorry," he murmured, "Are you hurt?"

The sting had already faded and Caroline found that she could not concentrate on anything but how very nice Klaus felt against her. She wondered idly if it would be even better if they were unclothed, in the manner Katerina had assured her was normal, what his skin would feel like against hers. "I'm fine," she answered him, swallowing hard. Caroline attempted to sound self-deprecating, and less breathless, "I probably should not have stopped so suddenly."

Klaus' gloved hand cupped the back of her neck and she shivered, unable to help how her eyes drifted closed as he stroked her skin, "And I probably should have offered you my arm like a gentleman."

That startled a smile out of her. As if what they were doing, what she was about to ask him for, was the slightest bit proper to begin with. Caroline rested her forehead against his shoulder as she tried to gather her courage, tentatively splayed her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart beating against her palm, was certain the rhythm was quicker than it should be. It gave her confidence that her request would not be denied. Caroline cleared her throat and let the words spill out, "Would you kiss me, Klaus? Show me some of the things Katerina has spoken of? I confess I cannot imagine allowing a near stranger to touch me in the ways she tells me I must allow my husband."

Klaus stiffened and a harsh exhale ruffled the curls that have escaped her coiffure, "I should not," he muttered, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

That did not _sound_ like he did not _wish_ to kiss her. She knew very well how blunt and immovable Klaus could be. Caroline fingered the buttons on his coat, dared to push a little more. "Please? I know we do not always get along but I trust you not to hurt me."

Klaus gritted out a curse, one that would get his ears boxed if his mother had heard. And then his hand was tilting her chin up, and his lips were slanted over hers. She expected firmness, a mashing, but his mouth was delicate. Soft and coaxing, encouraging her lips to cling to his. She gasped at the first wet brush of his tongue and tightened her hands around his lapels when he licked into her mouth.

He tasted of the champagne they had drunk in the ballroom but somehow better.

Klaus pulled back minutely, thumb brushing her jaw. Caroline's eyes fluttered open in question, found his immediately. They were half open, his pupils large, "Kiss me back, sweetheart," he murmured, before his head dipped again.

Caroline was not entirely sure what he meant but she clumsily stroked his tongue with hers, assumed she was doing _something_ right when he let out a pleased hum and drew her closer, her breasts crushed against the wall of his chest and their feet becoming tangled together. She lost herself in the taste of him, the heady slick strokes that stole her breath. Caroline grew warm and lightheaded, gooseflesh breaking out on her exposed skin. Sweat gathered between her breasts, her heart pumped faster and faster with every shift of his hands against her back. There was a curious ache building low in her belly and Caroline rocked her hips against Klaus' with a whimper hoping for some relief.

Klaus tore his mouth away, dragged it along the curve of her shoulder, "Christ," he rasped out. "What you do to me."

Caroline knew enough to understand what the bulge in his trousers meant, that she had managed to affect him. It was gratifying, made her feel powerful, to know that she was not alone in this _need_. "I want more," she told him, unable to think of anything else. "I want you to take off your gloves and touch me."

Klaus shuddered and moan spilled from her lips when he bit gently at her skin, his tongue a soothing stroke afterwards. "Where do you want me to touch you?" he murmured.

"Everywhere," Caroline breathed. It was madness but she could not imagine stopping, her skin screamed for more with every frantic pound of her heart. Klaus let out a pained noise, swore harshly. He attempted reason, "If anyone catches us you will be _ruined_, Caroline. Hell, even if they do not I cannot guarantee that this will be enough for me."

Her mind was too fuzzy to muster up any caution. She _wanted_ him. Caroline shook her head, attacked the buttons that hid Klaus from her. He allowed her, held her gaze as she brought her hand to her mouth, and tugged at the fingertips of her gloves with her teeth. He groaned, helped her peel them both away, and shed his coat uncaring where it landed, too busy drawing her back into his embrace. Caroline dragged his shirt up, slipped her hand underneath. He was so very warm, his skin's texture different from hers. She gave the hair that sat low on his belly a curious tug, and Klaus cursed once more. He urged her backwards, and they stumbled into a low stone bench. "I thought you wanted me to touch you?" Klaus asked, pressing her down. He captured her hands as he dropped to his knees in front of her, pressed a single hot kiss just above her bodice. Caroline jolted at the swipe of his tongue along the slope of her breast before she was distracted when his hands began to pull up the bottom of her skirts.

Caroline pressed her lips together, knotted her hands in the fabric when he handed it to her. Klaus' fingers worked quickly, untying her garter ribbons. She shifted restlessly when she felt his breath on her thigh, sucked in air when his lips dragged along the soft skin there. He glanced up, took a moment to gauge her expression. What he found must have pleased him because he rolled her stockings down, tugging off her slippers before discarding the lot. She was far taller than what was currently fashionable, but Klaus seemed to find no fault with the length of her legs, his hands caressed the skin reverently. "I want these wrapped around me," he whispered, almost to himself. "Pulling me deeper, your heels digging in so hard it leaves a bruise upon by back."

Caroline blinked down at him, the image of them entwined filling her head. She found it easy to conjure and that she wanted it too.

Klaus shook himself, urged her thighs wider. "Soon," he said, and it sounded like a promise. His hands spanned her thighs, inched upwards until he found the slit in her drawers. She heard a rip, and was about to admonish him, but his thumb touched her most private place gently and only a squeak came out.

Hearing that a man would touch her there was entirely different from _feeling_ it. It was shocking, but not unpleasant and Klaus stroked gently, watched her face before he deepened the motion. He pressed into her folds and Caroline let out a soft moan. His eyes closed, lashes heavy on his cheeks and a breath was hissed out between his teeth. Caroline was briefly embarrassed by the wetness that she could feel between her thighs but Klaus slicked his fingers in it before he dragged them upwards where he quickly found an exquisitely sensitive bit of flesh. "Oh," she stuttered out as her head dropped back. Caroline squirmed as Klaus toyed with it, lips parted in surprise. So _that's_ what Katerina had meant.

Klaus rolled the nub between his fingers and Caroline's thighs shook. Her hands fell to grip the bench, wanting something solid to hold onto as her abdomen tightened. Her skirts tumbled out of her grasp, and Klaus clucked his tongue. "Hold them up, Caroline. I want to watch."

She was helpless to resist that low dark tone, and she gathered them back up with shaking hands. She managed to pin them to her stomach with one hand. "Have you ever done this?" Klaus asked curiously, his eyes heated as he glanced up. "Did your ladies maid offer instructions?"

Caroline groped for an answer as Klaus slipped a finger inside of her, crooked as if he was searching for something. He stroked it in and out of her a few times, and her body instinctively clenched down at each retreat. It was an odd sensation at first, better as he continued. She started when he added another but his thumb began to circle that magic spot and soon her hips were rocking as she tried to follow the motions of his hand. Small noises spilled from her, ones she did not know she could make. "Well, Caroline? Did she explain that you could do this? Make yourself feel good? That you didn't have to wait for a husband to experience bliss?"

Caroline was certain that she had turned tomato red. "I… tried. But you know how servants are. Always bursting in to dust or stoke the fire. I never managed to figure out what all the fuss was about."

There was a touch of wickedness in Klaus' grin. "That's a shame. Allow me to show you."

Her eyes widened as his head dropped, and she threaded a hand in his hair when she felt his breath puff against her slick, sensitive skin. Klaus was not deterred, even moaned when she attempted to tug him back. And then his mouth picked up where his thumb had been. The point of his tongue against where he'd touched earlier had her slumping down, uncaring of how uncomfortable the boning of her corset was. Her spine felt liquid and she could not imagine her knees ever holding her weight again with the way they were trembling. When he sucked her thighs parted wider without her permission, rocking mindlessly in time with the pulls of Klaus' clever mouth.

Caroline had been certain that Katerina had been lying about this. That a man would never…

But Klaus _was_, seemed to relish the act. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her thighs, pulled her more firmly against his mouth. He made noises of enjoyment, the vibrations from them left her muscles twitching, and the tension coiled in her body was a hot urgent feeling.

Hoarse noises of need passed her lips, and Caroline clenched her teeth to try to keep them in. Klaus let out a low admonishing noise, his head turning to nip at her thigh. "None of that, Caroline. I want to hear you enjoy this."

She was about to protest but Klaus' lips curled and he did something with his hand, a twist and a glide, that left her gasping. "If no one has come looking for us yet they won't. Trust me, Caroline. Enjoy this."

Caroline nodded, whimpered when he set his mouth to her again, sank into the shocks of pleasure each rasp of his tongue gave her. Her breaths grew shorter, her mind spun, thoughts flying too fast for her to articulate, words of encouragement and pleas tumbled out in pants and whines. It was almost too much for her to process. She could not control her body, her reactions. She had never felt anything similar. It was incredible, and a little bit frightening, her muscles tensing as _something_ built. Klaus glanced up, must have sensed her confusion. He grabbed the hand that was still buried in his hair, pressed a kiss to her wrist. His fingers were still working at her flesh, her fluttering muscles grasping them tightly each time he pulled them from inside of her. "Don't be scared, love," he crooned reassuringly. "You're so beautiful like this. Just feel it. I'm here."

She hesitated before she nodded jerkily – she _did_ trust him - and then his mouth was back on her. She tilted her head, tried to let her worries drift away, her eyes on the stars. She let the sensations wash over her – nothing that felt so good could be wrong - and was trembling when Klaus' lips sucked hard, his fingers curling and rubbing inside of her. Something snapped and Caroline felt like she was flying as she gasped his name, waves of indescribable pleasure rolling through her limbs.

Klaus' hands held her steady, kept her anchored as his mouth drew the feeling out. At some point it became too much and she twitched away from his mouth, unable to bear more. His touch became soothing, and he began to speak quietly, encouragement and endearments and praise. She barely heard the words but his voice was grounding. Caroline's mouth felt dry, her eyes heavy, every inch of her body felt deliciously spent. Words, even if she could find them, would do the feeling no justice.

She floated back to herself slowly, was surprised to find that she was no longer on the bench.

Her head rested in the hollow of Klaus' throat, his hands moving gently along her back. She was splayed across his lap, her skirts probably crushed beyond repair. Caroline does not doubt that both she and Klaus' evening attire have become decorated with dirt and grass stains. She would not be able to walk into the ballroom like that. Not without her mother, and every gossip she came across, knowing something was amiss.

Caroline licked her lips, cleared her throat, "They are going to _know_," she told Klaus hesitantly.

"Most likely," Klaus agreed, though she heard no upset, not a hint of regret, in the soft reply.

Caroline still felt tired but she managed to pull herself up so she could look him in the eye, "And that does not bother you? I might not be ruined, technically speaking. But my mother will never believe that. She'll think you…"

Klaus surprised her, leaning up to press an affectionate kiss to her forehead, effectively cutting off her questions. "Ravished you? I most certainly did. And I look forward to doing it again. Technically ruined or not, Caroline I can still taste you on my tongue."

Her jaw dropped at his bold words and she tried to turn away. Klaus touched her chin, his fingertips soft but firm. She met his eyes reluctantly, was surprised to see such warmth, "Your mother will not believe you remain innocent. Nor will mine, for that matter. How do you feel about Paris for our honeymoon?"

She knew that she was gaping like a fish, imagined it was most unattractive. "If that was a proposal, Klaus Mikaelson, it was awful."

He laughed, and kissed her again. In that sweet, drugging way she suspected she would quickly become addicted to. "I shall have to work on a better one. Because I was right, Caroline. _This_ was not enough for me. Was it enough for you? Or is that agile mind of yours itching to know more, just as I'd predicted? We have just scratched the surface, love."

Caroline had never seriously considered Klaus when she'd mulled over possible husbands, despite his name having come up often in such conversations. She had never thought that he would want her but the look in his eyes plainly said that she was mistaken. That she had clearly missed something. The depth of regard he was not trying to hide did _not_ look new.

She smiled shyly and reached up to lay her fingertips on his face, let herself learn the feel of his skin. She ran them down his throat, an exploratory caress. Klaus swallowed thickly, heat in his gaze, "I… must confess that my curiosity about certain _things_ remains. Katerina's descriptions, while vivid, left much out, I think."

Klaus' expression read nothing but satisfaction, "I am glad," he told her sincerely. "And I look forward to showing you all the things your maid did not adequately describe. Though a more comfortable location would make things easier. At least to start, until we have discovered what sort of _things_ you like best."

There was a question on the tip of her tongue (what, precisely, had he meant by '_to start_?') but Klaus shifted, gently helping her to her feet, and they set to work to make themselves as presentable as possible, shaking out her skirts and attempting to smooth the creases in his coat.

Caroline stored it away, however. It seemed as though there would be plenty of time to ask Klaus all manner of questions later.


	55. When Sunday Comes Around

**Notes: **Oops, posted this on Tumblr a few weeks ago but forgot to put it here!

**When Sunday Comes Around**

**(Prompt: klaroline + "i slept with you the other day and i didnt know we had a mutual friend and now we're sitting across each other for brunch and it's awkward because i ran out when you were asleep." Title from "Drake's Dad" by The Arkells. Rated T.)**

Hurrying down the sidewalk, dodging people who seemed to think _meander_ was an acceptable pace, one single thought is playing on a loop in Caroline's head.

Rebekah is going to _kill_ her.

Slowly.

First, she's running so late and Rebekah hates to be kept waiting. She's also never shy about expressing her annoyance. About anything, no matter how minor and she won't think half an hour is minor especially once she sees how Caroline's dressed.

Totally Caroline's second strike.

The heels are so not Sunday brunch appropriate and layering the button up she'd stolen under a very tiny little black dress wasn't going to fool anyone. Caroline expects to be hearing about this for years. Possibly decades. It might even be an anecdote that Rebekah tells at her wedding. You know, if Caroline ever finds a boyfriend who doesn't turn out to be the _worst_.

Maybe she could blame her most recent awful ex for her lateness? Rebekah had been the one who'd encouraged Caroline to go out last night. She had said that she was sorry she couldn't come but she was expecting her brother early in the morning. Bekah had been very firm on the phone, insisting that Caroline deserved to have a good time and forget about, "that broody wanker." Told Caroline to have a couple cocktails for her, to find someone pretty and easy, and not skimp on the details later.

Caroline had followed that advice. Maybe a little _too_ well.

Which led to her current predicament. She refused to call it a walk of shame – there was nothing shameful about the number of orgasms she'd had last night – but Caroline was certain that Rebekah wouldn't be quite so circumspect. She just hoped that Rebekah would keep her mouth shut in front of her brother.

Turning up less than fresh from a one night stand was really not the first impression Caroline was looking to make. Hopefully Rebekah's brother would just think she had a questionable fashion sense. She doubted he'd get close enough to smell her, thankfully. She'd spritzed on a (tasteful!) layer of perfume but was still pretty sure she smelled like great sex. She hadn't been willing to risk a shower and a possible awkward conversation if the guy she'd gone home with were to wake up.

Even if he'd exceeded all expectations.

But she couldn't be thinking about _that_ right now.

Caroline's never met Nik but she knows that he's Bekah's favorite so she'd been a little nervous about the impending meal even before this morning's issues. He'd only visited once in the years she'd known Rebekah but it had been during Caroline's semester abroad so their paths had never crossed. She's never even seen a photo (though she doubts he'll break the Mikaelson trend of being a super-hot hottie) as Rebekah had often lamented his ability to dodge cameras or screw up perfectly lovely photos by glowering as if he was plotting a murder.

She only hopes he's less creepy than Kol. Last time _that_ brother had visited he'd been lucky to escape with his balls intact. Caroline's knee had itched to do some smashing after the insane amount of filthy innuendos he'd tossed her way.

Rebekah had seemed every bit as annoyed by them as Caroline had been though. Caroline doubted that her favorite brother would be cut from the same smirky perverted cloth.

Pausing outside the door to the restaurant Caroline tugs down her skirt, wishing for just a little extra length. Cursing that it doesn't along with the fact that her panties hadn't survived the eager hands of the man who she'd spent last night with. Her efforts are futile, Caroline exposes the exact same, mildly scandalous, amount of thigh when she straightens and she blows out an annoyed breath. Peeking through the window she can see that the crowd is thin and she easily spots Rebekah. Her posture is stiff and there's a little crinkle between her eyebrows, a telltale thinning of her lips.

She's definitely pissed. Caroline needs to quit stalling.

She bites back a groan and squares her shoulders. She offers a practice smile to the man who holds the door open for her (kindly ignoring his wandering eyes) and breezes into the restaurant. It's a place she and Bekah go to nearly every week so the hostess doesn't even blink when Caroline walks right in. Rebekah spots her immediately and her face darkens into a scowl that might make a lesser woman turn and walk out.

Caroline is not a lesser woman.

She turns her smile up a notch, and Rebekah's eyes narrow, drifting over Caroline's outfit. The table's second occupant begins to turn and Caroline, who'd only been able to make out the back of his head, nearly stumbles on her spindly heels when she sees his face.

Third fucking strike. Game over. She was _beyond_ dead.

He looks tired, the stubble on his face heavier than it had been last night. The eyes, those dimples, the ridiculously tempting (and talented) mouth are unmistakable.

Her first thought? It's so unfair that he'd managed to beat her to brunch considering he'd still been sleeping peacefully when she'd tiptoed out of his hotel room. Stupid public transportation. Caroline would bet good money that _he_ hadn't been leered at the whole way here.

She's not exactly proud of her second thought, a brief fantasy about sprinting from the room and feigning some kind of emergency. One that would keep her busy for the next couple weeks. How long had Rebekah said her brother was supposed to be staying with her again? Caroline couldn't recall.

She quickly dismisses it, her resolve hardening as she watches a slow, knowing grin spread across last night's fling's annoyingly handsome face. He tips his head to the side, and there's something challenging in the gesture that makes Caroline bristle.

And wait a minute, he'd said his name was _Klaus_. Had he honestly fake named her?!

That would not stand.

She knows her smile is too sharp, doubts her building fury is lost on either of her two brunch companions. Gritting her teeth Caroline calls on all the fake pageant sweetness she'd perfected once upon a time. She takes the last few steps to the table, pulling out a chair. "Morning! Sorry I'm late. Traffic."

She directs it at Rebekah, ignoring the man to her right. Only proper, since they'd never been introduced, right?

"It's 9 AM on a Sunday," Rebekah observes dryly, reaching for a coffee carafe. "There is no traffic. At least not from your place." She pauses as she pours, politely offering Caroline the cup. Caroline takes it, busies herself with cream and sugar. Scrounges for some optimism and crosses her fingers that she just might be home free.

She's not. At all. Rebekah's just getting warmed up.

"But something tells me you didn't roll out of _your_ bed this morning," Rebekah notes. Her tone is innocent, sly, her eyes dancing with mischief. And if they were alone Caroline would totally be down for some good girl talk. She'd got some juicy stuff to share and it really is too bad that the details are going to revolt Rebekah since they are _very_ dirty and feature her favorite brother heavily. Bekah's voice drops conspiratorially and she leans across the table, "Did you at least leave a note? Thanking your suitor for his hospitality?"

Caroline's left groping for a reply and she really wishes she'd been quicker when a too familiar voice answers for her the familiar voice amused, "She did not, as a matter of fact. I was quite disappointed."

Her head snaps to the side, ignoring the choking sound Rebekah makes. "Seriously?" she hisses.

He has the nerve to shrug, and to settle back into his chair, "What? I had a lovely time last night, Caroline. And I'm quite certain you did too. Was a goodbye too much to ask for? Makes a man feel cheap when the lady he put so much effort into impressing slips away with nary a word."

"You weren't that impressive," Caroline bites back. A lie, one she cringes at, because she knows he's going to call her on, his eyes flare hot and he stiffens, his ire clear.

Caroline's not sure if Rebekah interrupting is a good thing or not. "No," she says firmly, a hand slapping down hard on the table. The china rattles and they get several interested looks from surrounding tables. "No," Rebekah repeats, albeit more quietly, "I do not want to hear another word about whatever you two did or did not do last night. Not now, not ever."

"Oh, don't be such a prude, Bekah darling. We're all grown-ups here, are we not?"

Rebekah's expression grows spiteful, a sneer crossing her face, "Does that mean you'd like to hear the details of my sex life, Niklaus? You've not met Enzo left but I can assure you he's most adventurous."

Caroline finds her eyes flitting back and forth between the siblings, kind of fascinated by the stare off. Then something clicks, "Wait, Niklaus?"

Maybe he hadn't lied.

Klaus breaks the stare off to meet her eyes, "Our parents are nothing if not pretentious, love. My full name is only used by my stuffy older brothers. It's usually Nik to Bekah and the younger ones, Klaus to everyone else."

"Oh," is all Caroline manages. He doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't look away. Caroline fights the urge to squirm, a snippet of a memory dancing to the front of her brain. He hadn't let her close her eyes last night either. Had demanded, hoarse and insistent, that she look at him while she fell apart.

God, she hopes she's not blushing.

Rebekah makes a small noise of disgust, picking up her menu and putting it in front of her face. Caroline rolls her eyes at the dramatics. Klaus smiles, a soft laugh coming from him. He hold out his hand, "Truce, sweetheart? In the interest of getting thorough breakfast without having to listen to Rebekah whine incessantly?"

"Shut it, Nik," Rebekah grumps. "And you are definitely paying. For breakfast and perhaps for a few sessions with a therapist for my emotional trauma." The look she shoots Caroline makes it clear that she's not off the hook. That they will be having words. Caroline just hopes that the conversation, when they get to it, is one where there's plenty of alcohol.

Klaus ignores Rebekah, watching Caroline expectantly. Hesitantly, she holds out her hand, tries not to react to the feel of his skin on hers once she's in his grip. It's only been hours, after all. Not nearly enough time for her to forget how good he had felt against her, the lovely sensations those long callused fingertips were capable of drawing out of her. Klaus is fast, dipping his head and brushing a kiss over her pulse point. It races and Caroline fights back a gasp, yanking her hand away and shooting him a dirty look.

He grins, unrepentant and reaches for his own menu. Settling back in his chair he speaks again, deceptively mild, "I'm afraid I'm going to need that shirt back, however. As much as I like the look of you in my clothes it's the only one like it I've packed. Can't show up to my job interview on Wednesday with a t-shirt under my suit, can I?"

Right. She remembers why he was visiting now. Rebekah had mentioned it in passing, some fancy job at an art gallery that he was apparently a shoe in for. "I'll get it to you by Tuesday," she tells him, making an effort to sound polite. Maybe, just maybe, they could push through and this somehow wouldn't be the most awkward brunch in history.

Unfortunately, it seems like Klaus can't resist the urge to be a smart ass. "Thank you, love. Can I assume you remember where my hotel is? Getting there was a bit of a blur for me last night. You were very…distracting. I can't imagine it was much clearer for you. And we've already established that you left with an undue amount of haste. Shame, since I had plans."

She refuses to think about what those plans might have been, suddenly very aware of her lack of underwear. It's very tempting to search for his foot under the table and drive her stiletto into it. Caroline manages to refrain, offering him a tight smile. "I'll manage. It's not blurry at all."

This time a waiter interrupts whatever denial Klaus was about to make. Caroline resolves to leave him a kick ass tip.

It's terrible but Caroline sends up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that Klaus doesn't get the job he's gunning for. She has a sneaking suspicion that having him around on a regular basis would not be good for her mental health.


	56. Kind Of Hectic

**Notes: **Since we're in a bit of a drabble drought due to the upcoming klarolineauweek (which is kind of my fault?) I wrote a small thing to help ease it. Going to try for another this weekend.

**Kind Of Hectic**

**(For Angelikah! Prompt: "I bought dick popsicles as a joke but you look really hot how you're sucking on that fuck." Smut. Title from "Fantasy" by Mariah Carey.)**

Caroline Forbes was far from the worst housemate Klaus had ever had. No, that honor went to Kol. They'd lived together for three months after Kol had finished university and it was a miracle they'd both survived the experience. Christmas with the family had been quite frosty that year though they'd mostly gotten over it in the years since. Absence definitely managed to make the heart grow fonder where irritating, boundary pushing, siblings were concerned.

He'd had a string of bad luck after Kol though none of his tenants had been nearly as terrible. There were little things that each did that made them completely incompatible with Klaus and how he preferred to live. There was the bloke with the terrible brother and the girlfriend whose eyes wandered to, and lingered on, said brother often. Josh, who was far too friendly (particularly in the morning) and talked incessantly. Hayley, who had a pack of friends with little manners and large appetites, all of whom were fond of camping out in Klaus' backyard like they owned it.

Klaus had been close to giving up and had been putting off advertising his spare room. It's not as if he _needed_ the extra income. It was merely convenient. His work took him away often and unexpectedly sometimes for an unpredictable amount of time. Having someone around to mind the house, look after his dog, so he didn't have to constantly scramble last minute (or persuade Rebekah to stop by – _that_ got expensive) while attempting to pack and brief his team, just seemed to work better for Klaus.

Then he'd met Caroline.

Almost a year ago now, at a pub he frequented. She'd been out of place, dressed far more nicely than anyone else in the room, her dress revealing miles of toned leg. Also notable had been the way she'd been sniffling into a shooter of vodka. The place had been packed but the seat next to her remained empty, various patrons shooting her nervous or concerned glances. Klaus, no stranger to dramatic blondes, and sensing an opportunity to get quick service, had snagged the vacant stool. He'd ordered himself bourbon and her a glass of orange juice. He'd nudged it over to her, snagged her undrunk shot and poured it in, "Awful stuff," he'd murmured. "Can understand why you'd not want to drink it, even if you look like you need it."

She'd shot him a glare, but her red rimmed eyes had made it rather less ferocious than she'd probably meant it (and he'd learned since that Caroline could be plenty terrifying if the mood struck her) but she'd stirred the drink and taken a sip. "I should probably dump this in your lap but you're kind of right. It seemed the most expedient way to get _really_ drunk. Always did the trick when I was in college."

"I'd not be able to choke down the cheap beer I was fond of back then either," Klaus told her. It got a wan smile and he found himself returning it, idly wondering what it would take to make hers a little more sincere. His phone had buzzed and he'd fished it out of his pocket, reading the text from Marcel who evidently had a work emergency he couldn't tear himself away from. Klaus had debated leaving her to her wallowing but found himself unenthused with the prospect. Deciding he did not had anything more diverting to do Klaus had propped his elbow on the bar, turning slightly to face her. She'd startled slightly when he'd stuck out his hand, "My name is Klaus and it seems as if I am without company. Care to tell me what's got you out of sorts, love? Save me from looking like one of those pathetic souls who drink alone?"

She'd swirled her drink, raised a brow, "Pathetic like me, you mean?"

Klaus had shrugged, "I'm sensing extenuating circumstances. Besides, given another couple of minutes I'm sure some other man would have sat down and tried his luck with the beautiful blonde sitting alone."

"Is this you trying your luck?" she'd asked, leaning slightly away as if looking for an escape route.

Klaus had shaken his head, unoffended. Any other night, had he seen her in that dress, he probably would have. But seducing vulnerable women had never been his bag. There was something unsporting about it and Klaus did enjoy a challenge. He'd also rather a woman's attention not be split when they were in his bed and getting to know each other in a private fashion. Call it ego. "'Afraid not. I just wanted a drink. Say the word and I'll be on my merry way."

The woman relaxed slightly, her eyes darting around. Following her gaze Klaus noted that several of the stares directed her way had turned decidedly speculative, even lustful, now that she no longer seemed to be miserable. With a sigh she'd angled her body towards him. "I'm Caroline. And I've had _the worst_ day."

The story had come spilling out. She had been all set to move in with her boyfriend the next week and had gone to his office to surprise him at lunch. Had walked in on him with his assistant doing things that were _not_ appropriate for business hours. After storming out she had tried to talk to her landlord about renewing her lease only to find out he'd already rented her place out. She'd then confided that she was attempting to work up the Dutch courage to call her friend Kat – who'd never liked her boyfriend and was not the type to be shy about 'I told you so's' – and tell her that she'd be needing her couch for a couple of weeks.

Klaus had always blamed the bourbon he'd imbibed during her (gesture filled and passionate) story telling for what had happened next. "Or," he'd said, "You could move in with me." Her eyes had gone wide, her mouth falling open in shock, and he'd cringed a little at the lack of finesse he'd delivered the offer with. He'd held up his hands, "It's something I do regularly, I promise. My last housemate moved out a month ago. Rent's cheap for the area. In exchange you'd just need to manage things when I'm away for work. I have a very spoiled dog, you see. I'd be happy to put you in contact with a few of my past tenants."

Caroline's mouth had closed, her eyes turning calculating. "If this is some creepy ass long play pick up, Klaus, I swear to God…"

Her eyes had dropped, lingering near his lap, and Klaus had clearly gotten the implied threat to his manhood. "It isn't," he'd assured her. "Would you like to come and see the place?"

She'd seemed to struggle for a moment before she'd finally slumped back, knocking back the last of the cocktail she'd been drinking. "Why not? I really don't want to have to live with Kat's smugness about calling a douchebag a douchebag way before I realized it."

Caroline had popped by the next day, and she'd clearly had to make a great effort to seem casual. Her eyes had lit up upon seeing the spacious walk in closet in her room and she'd been immediately smitten with his dog (Jupiter might be a mutt but he _was_ a shameless flirt and a sucker for a pretty face). She'd moved in a week later and, after a slight adjustment period, they mostly rubbed along rather well.

Completely platonically. Something Klaus often laments.

It's his turn to do the grocery shopping and, as usual, Caroline's contributions to the list are _very_ specific. She writes down the precise flavor and brand whenever possible. It irks Klaus, perhaps irrationally, because after a year he's well aware of her preferences. He's often tempted to be petty, and deliberately buy the wrong thing, but has so far managed to refrain.

His last stop is the freezer section and he immediately sees that Caroline's preferred brand of popsicles is out of stock. She'll only eat the real fruit ones, claims that the idea that 'pink' could be a flavor is ridiculous. He debates grabbing her a pint of Strawberry Haagen Dazs (well aware that the popsicles are a paltry placeholder for her real love - ice cream) but knows that if he does he'll be subjected to the torturous sight of Caroline sweaty and clad in clingy Lycra, flushed and fresh from a run, tomorrow.

Something he'd rather avoid because it's a real struggle to talk himself out of pressing her to a counter and peeling her clothes away so he can taste her skin.

He leaves without any substitutes, makes a mental note to stop by later in the week to see if they've been restocked.

That _should_ have been the end of it.

Until a very loud poster in a shop's window happened to catch Klaus' attention at an intersection. The tiny devil on his shoulder wouldn't let him resist the product it promised. They weren't the brand Caroline liked but they seemed to have something close to her preferred flavor. What harm could picking some up do?

Klaus probably should have reconsidered when he realized that the imaginary devil sounded an awful lot like Kol.

* * *

"What are these?" Caroline asks as they're clearing away the dinner dishes, her tone an interesting mix of bewilderment and distaste.

"Popsicles," Klaus tells her succinctly, bending to hide his smile as he loaded the dishwasher. "The store was out of your specified variety but luckily I saw those advertised on the way home. Made with real fruit _and_ they're organic. I do believe the business was local as well so really I am quite the conscientious consumer today."

"They're shaped like cocks," Caroline says slowly.

"I noticed," Klaus shoots back glibly. "If you think about it a popsicle is rather phallic anyway, isn't it? So really, what's the difference?"

"Where did you even _get_ these?"

"Little shop on the corner of Fifth and Pine. Next to a bakery. I forget the name…"

"Frisky Business," Caroline says absently.

Klaus can't resist turning to look at her, doesn't try to fight the smirk or the leer, "Familiar with it, are you? Do you often find yourself with a need for adult toys, Caroline?"

She rolls her eyes, meets his without a hint of shame, "I've been single for almost a year, Klaus. A girl has needs."

Klaus sucks in a breath, having not expected her to admit such a thing so easily. He's immediately assaulted by images, has a million (probably inappropriate) questions dying to burst from the tip of his tongue. He'd wandered around the shop while his order had been wrapped up and he could easily conjure the picture of Caroline, writhing on her bed, any number of items pressed against her clit. Did she play with herself while he was around? Trying desperately to keep quiet so he wouldn't know what she was up to?

Klaus shakes himself, pulls out of his fantasies and blinks at Caroline. She's noted his preoccupation, of course. The wicked smile curving her lips tells him she's accurately guessed the source of it. He fumbles for one of the kitchen stools, sitting down in as casual a manner as he can muster. His body had reacted to his thoughts, and he only hopes Caroline hadn't noted the growing tightness of his jeans.

"Do you want one?" she asks him, altogether too innocently. Klaus is instantly suspicious.

He shakes his head and Caroline shrugs, taking one of the popsicles from the box before putting the rest away. He half expects her to leave the kitchen, head for the living room or even her bedroom (allowing Klaus to make a quick escape to his own so he can consider this new information about Caroline in greater depth. Perhaps in his shower?). She surprises him, boosting herself onto the counter across from him. She crosses her legs and Klaus' eyes are drawn to the motion. It's a hot day, she's wearing her usual floral cotton sundress and she seems unconcerned about how much thigh she's revealing.

"Did you buy anything else?" she asks him conversationally. "I bought a few things for couples but DirtbagEx was always kind of weirded out by toys no matter how small. Was super offended by my fave dildo. He probably would have died if I suggested a cock ring."

Klaus' mouth feels dry and he really wishes he hadn't left his beer behind when he'd sat down. Caroline casually talking about sex toys (she had a favorite dildo? Implying there were several to choose from?) was not how he'd expected this evening to go. He'd assumed she'd get a little riled by the popsicles, that she'd bristle and maybe blush a bit. They'd have one of the little spats that he so enjoyed (ideally leading to Caroline easing up on her grocery list micromanagement) and eventually he'd coax her to laugh.

Instead she seems to take a certain amount of glee in observing him and Klaus is kicking himself for his flustered state. He should have known something would go awry. Caroline rarely reacted exactly as he expected her to. Something Klaus generally enjoyed.

Her gaze is expectant, her feet swinging idly as she waits for him to answer. Klaus clears his throat. "I did not," he manages neutrally.

"Just browsed?" she teases as she peels the paper wrapper off her popsicle. "Well, if you ever want to go back, let me know. I'm a platinum member and I get 15% off. Sometimes they even throw in lube samples. I've yet to find a flavored one that actually tastes all that good but it never hurts to try."

He's barely begun to process _that_ information before she's bringing the popsicle up to her mouth, tongue darting out to lick along the side. She eyes him as she swirls her tongue around the very realistically shaped head, letting out a pleased little hum. "Mmm, this is actually really good, Klaus. Thank you." And then she wraps her lips around the frozen treat and _sucks_.

Really, there's only so much a man can take.

Klaus is out of his seat, barely noticing the stool clattering to the floor behind him as he rounds the island. He snatches the popsicle from her hand and tosses it in the direction of the sink before he grasps her hips, yanks her to the edge of the counter, smothering the surprised squeak she makes with his lips. She doesn't fight him, sinks into the kiss eagerly, her lips parting and her legs twining around his hips. She's at the perfect height, perched as she is, and Caroline moans as she grinds against his cock through his jeans, encouraged by his hands on her. He kisses her like he's been wanting to for months, deep and frantic and making up for lost time. When she tears her mouth away her lips are swollen, her eyes heavy lidded and dark. "Not turned off by sex toys?" she murmurs huskily, a glint of mischief evident. "Good to know."

Klaus huffs out a laugh, dragging his lips down her throat. She shudders when he hits the curve of her shoulder, her head thunking back against the cabinets when he bites lightly. "Definitely not turned off. Intrigued by the use of the plural." He tugs on the strap of her dress questioningly and Caroline drops her hands from his shoulders to make it easier for him to peel it down to her waist.

"Sex toys are kind of like tattoos, Klaus. You either have none or you have a box under your bed."

"Let me guess, you have a box?"

"Plus a couple under the sink in my bathroom."

Klaus bites his lip to fight back the groan, though it's more difficult when Caroline arches back to get at the clasp of her bra. She discards it and he's just reaching out to touch, wants to get his mouth on the stiff peaks of her nipples but she catches his hands, letting her legs fall from around him. She hops down from the counter, and slips her hands under his shirt. She pushes it up, wiggling her hips until her dress falls. Klaus lifts his arms obligingly. Caroline's eyes are warm and appreciative on his newly bared torso, and her fingertips trace his skin maddeningly lightly for torturous minutes. She leans in and he feels her lips brush against the birds inked on his shoulder, "Hey, you can't blame me. Your aversion to shirts has been _really_ inspirational."

He swallows harshly, almost chokes when she swiftly drops to her knees. She attacks his belt with nimble fingers, whipping it though the loops and discarding it quickly. "Caroline," Klaus manages to force out, low and strained, reaching out to grip the countertop behind him.

She ignores him, pressing teasing kisses to his abdomen, yanking his jeans down and drawing her nails lightly down his thighs.

Klaus leans more heavily into the kitchen island as he kicks his pants aside. She ghosts a hand over the front of his boxer briefs, shaping him gently through the fabric. He locks his knees, clenching his teeth together to keep from asking her for _more_. Caroline grins up at him, "You did ruin my popsicle."

That startles a strangled laugh from him, though it's cut off when she frees his cock, repeating her earlier motions with the frozen treat. Klaus stills when she licks a broad stripe up the underside of his cock, shudders when her tongue strokes teasing patterns just underneath the head. Is unable to help the hoarse grunt that spills from him when she sucks him into her mouth.

He watches her until he can't anymore, the sight of her lips stretched around him, clearly enjoying pushing him closer to the edge, coupled with just how incredible her mouth _feels_, has his control fraying at an embarrassing rate. His head tips back, eyes falling closed. Caroline makes a displeased little noise, the vibration of it sends a jolt through him and his stomach clenches painfully in an effort to hold back. She pulls away from him, the warmth of her hands and mouth leaving him altogether. His protest comes out garbled, her name the only thing intelligible. "Am I boring you?" she asks pointedly.

He rolls his eyes, not something he'd ever done before Caroline. He reaches down and tugs her to her feet, threading his hands through her hair. She allows him to pull her closer, and her eyelids flutter when he presses his thigh in between hers. She grinds against him lightly lips parting and Klaus can feel that her knickers are damp. One of his hands smooths up her side, and she presses her breast into his hand when he cups her. Klaus forces himself to focus. He's certainly had fantasies about Caroline in this kitchen. And he's more than game to enact them. Later. "You've never bored me, sweetheart. I just had all sorts of plans for the first time I had you. Don't want you ruining _all_ of them."

Caroline loops her arms around his shoulders, leaning into him, "What about my plans?" she murmurs, leaning in to press her mouth to his throat.

"So you've thought of this?" Klaus asks, not making any attempt to hide the note of smugness.

Caroline looks distinctly unimpressed as she pulls back, tugs on the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that sends a new stirring of interest straight to his cock. She rolls her hips against his and Klaus grits out a curse. "Yes," she deadpans. "Obviously. What did you think inspirational meant? I think about you often, Klaus. About your hands and your mouth and the kind of filthy things you might say. In my bed, in my shower, usually accompanied with a high end vibrator. Sometimes even in _your_ bed when you're out of town."

He stills, hands tightening on her skin, new images flashing through his mind. "Caroline," he mutters warningly.

"What?" she blinks at him, lifting a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "It smells like you. Really enriches the fantasy. Care for a demonstration? Or was that not in your _plans_?"

It hadn't been. But it definitely was now.

"My bed, five minutes," he tells her seriously. "Bring your toys, love. I might have a few things of my own we can play with."

Now, where had he put those handcuffs?


	57. klarolineauweek3 AU: CrossoversFusions

**Notes: **Another round of klarolineauweek is currently happening so here are my contributions from Day One. The theme was AU: Crossovers and Fusions. I bounced around a lot for this day (the second drabble was SUPER last minute) so I'd love to hear your thoughts! Also, the blog is everythingisklaroline if you want to check everything out!

**Upside Down**

**(prompt + the x files!klaroline au that nobody asked for: conspiracy theorist klaus and realist caroline as fbi agents forced to work together and investigate unusual cases the us government would rather deny. Rated K+.)**

Caroline waits for a beat, mouth open and blinking, certain that Klaus _has_ to be messing with her. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone out of his way to wind her up. Their partnership has been… bumpy, especially in those first few weeks when they'd been feeling each other out. He'd been tight lipped and reluctant to trust her, she'd taken his long silences and clipped answers to her questions as proof that he was yet another condescending asshat who underestimated her. She'd thought things had been going pretty smoothly lately, that they'd built up a certain amount of respect, developed a camaraderie. Maybe she'd been wrong. Because seriously. Aliens? _That_ was his explanation? Did he think she was _completely_ gullible?

Klaus seems perfectly unruffled, however. His expression doesn't reveal a single twitch of amusement or hint that he's joking. He seems to be waiting, calmly sipping his drink, the pencil he'd been sketching on a bar napkin with tapping out an even rhythm as Caroline gathers her thoughts.

Caroline does the only thing she thinks is appropriate. Her laugh is practically a cackle, her head falling back as she sways on her stool. It ends abruptly, with a cough, when the wine she'd been nursing goes down _completely_ wrong. Klaus reaches over and taps on her back, a small huff of exasperation leaving him. Caroline shakes him off, glancing around as she tries to get her breathing under control. There's a waitress clearing tables in a corner but the bar is otherwise deserted so at least she's not disturbing anyone with her loud incredulity and appalling manners. Clearing her throat she finally says, "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Klaus observes Caroline with a placid expression, still lacking even a flicker of humor. He leans down the bar to pluck a handful of napkins from a holder, offering them to her with a faint smirk, "You dribbled a bit, love."

She rolls her eyes and wipes her mouth, taking a quick glance down to see if she'd be fighting a wine stain in her hotel bathroom later. Luckily her boring blue blouse up remains clean, just rumpled and limp from her long day. Caroline might have cared more about looking less than fresh months ago, when Klaus had first been led into her cramped office. His tie had been slightly askew, stubble shading his jaw as he looked her over, curious and assessing. She'd had to fight the instinct to let her eyes wander, not willing to check him out in front of her boss. Caroline had been unable to help the instinctive urge to smooth her hair and straighten her top. Klaus was attractive and she wasn't blind. Since then he's seen her looking every variety of disheveled so she's lost any urge to primp in his presence. She takes another (daintier) sip of wine and turns to face him properly, her knees grazing his thigh, "Serious question: just _how_ much have you had to drink?" He'd been down in the bar for a good hour while she'd made some calls. Maybe he'd sucked back a bottle of something potent in that time?

He lifts his glass and swirls it pointedly, "This is my second. I'm hardly drunk."

Caroline snatches it out of his hand and Klaus lets out an irritated sigh. She makes a show of sniffing the drink, "Hmm," she muses. "It smells like regular bourbon but you never know. Maybe someone slipped you something? Because I think you might be on some kind of acid trip."

He taps the glass, "Would you like to test it? I'm sure that boy in the lab you flirt with would be happy to rush the results. Though I imagine that squandering department resources would be frowned upon."

Caroline snorts and hands him back the drink, "Like I can get any lower on the totem pole. As it is I'm stuck with…" she cuts herself off, pressing her lips together and cringing. She's mostly gotten over her tendency to let her mouth run away with her – at least professionally. Klaus has a tendency to make her forget to try. She's spent a lot of hours with him, logged thousands of miles. Sometimes her usual filter falls away.

He doesn't appear offended, the corner of his mouth curling up in amusement, "Stuck with me," he finishes for her. "Is it really all that awful? I think it's a rather large improvement over that dingy little office you used to call home. Really, the sheer volume of file boxes shoved in there must have been against some sort of fire safety regulation."

"I had a system," Caroline mutters, refusing to admit that he had a point. Before he'd come along she'd been stuck in an endless nightmare brought on by decades of past agent's shoddy organization and carelessness. Caroline might have loved a project but she'd often been close to screaming trying to untangle the mess that had been foisted on her.

Even if it was _kind of_ her own fault.

Caroline's supervisor was close to retirement, and harbored some insanely retro ideas about women in law enforcement. She managed to shrug off the other agents calling her Special Agent Barbie, the jokes about how she should double check the safety on her gun, and the constant assumption that somehow the coffee pot was her sole domain. It was harder to bite her tongue when her boss joined in but she rationalized that she only had to endure him for a couple of months before he'd be off wearing tacky shorts in Arizona and out of her way. She told herself that there's no way his replacement could possibly _also_ be a misogynistic douchebag.

Caroline had thought things would improve when she'd gotten called into his office and he'd told her she'd be getting an _actual_ case. She'd been stuck doing grunt work since she'd started (and not just any grunt work, the most basic and tedious things imaginable) and she'd completed it all flawlessly and without any complaints (at least within the office - she totally ranted and used some very colorful adjectives in private). She'd been bursting with excitement, at least until she got the details. The case she'd been presented could have charitably been called cold but a more accurate description would have been dead, buried and decomposing. He'd been condescending when they'd spoken and Caroline had gritted her teeth and mentally resolved to make him eat his overly solicitous (and insulting!) words. "Let me know if it's too complicated for you and I'll put Salvatore on it," he'd said, as if Stefan Salvatore would be any help. He was a nice guy but he seemed to spend half his time smoothing things over when his overly reckless brother screwed up in the field. Plus, from what she'd seen, his files were _atrocious_.

Honestly, how did someone get to adulthood and _still_ not understand the concept of alphabetization?

She'd pasted on a smile, taken the offered folders, and declined any assistance. She'd kept her shoulders straight as she'd settled down at her desk, and ignored the few interested looks she was getting. Something like dread had begun to settle in her stomach as she'd perused the file, the various notes and reports it contained. The many, _many_ dead ends the case it had ended in over the years it had been open. Caroline's spirits had plummeted but she'd refused to let it show.

It was a lesson she'd learned long ago watching her mother deal with the small town politics her job as sheriff forced her to endure. Liz Forbes never showed weakness because there was always someone waiting to pounce, to pop up and question if someone else should be doing the job.

Caroline had allowed herself a mini meltdown during her lunch break, away from prying eyes. She'd received a pep talk (from Bonnie) and some masterful reverse psychology (from Kat) and had resolved to close the damn case, whatever she had to do.

Her entire life she'd rarely failed to accomplish something once she set her mind to it, had always taken great pleasure in proving people wrong.

Her boss had set her up to fail and Caroline refused to give him the satisfaction.

It had taken some incredibly long hours, a lot of coffee and a little creativity but in the end Caroline had tied a neat little bow on the case, had four people currently awaiting trial. Her boss had delivered his, "Good work, Forbes" speech looking pinched and sour.

She'd been gleeful and it had been her downfall.

A cheery remark on how things would be so much easier if the old case files she'd combed through weren't all still paper, if they could be accessed electronically and cross referenced had come back to bite her. Hard.

Caroline had been given a new assignment. An awful one. If only she hadn't minored in computer science.

Nearly three months later she'd still been office bound, fighting regular stress headaches from squinting to decipher bad handwriting on yellowed papers. That's how Klaus had found her, buried under a mountain of paper, attempting to bring a little 21st century magic to some old cases. Some of which were pretty damn weird. And okay, more than a little fascinating at times. If only there hadn't been so many of them.

Honestly, before Klaus had spoken – snarky and far too confident – she'd been thrilled he'd been assigned to her.

It had been a glorified babysitting job in the beginning. Klaus was MI-5, investigating a series of bodies that had been found in Northumberland. All had been found at the base of a white oak tree, with crude bracelets of leaves and twigs wrapped around each wrist, an odd symbol carved into the tree's bark above where they'd lain. He'd told her he'd exhausted leads in England but had found a small mention to similar happenings in Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee in the 1960's online. It was some kind of message board for conspiracy theory types – apparently the story had turned into an urban legend. With nothing better to go on he'd begun digging deeper and had eventually turned up a couple of newspaper articles that seemed to corroborate the story. With nothing better to go on he'd lobbied hard to travel to the US and had managed to swing permission (one of his victims the son of a fairly important foreign dignitary cutting through all sorts of red tape) to see if he could find anything that would help him solve the case.

Which had brought him to her dingy little office. As Caroline was the current keeper of cases of the weird, old or unsolved varieties Klaus had become her problem. She couldn't have anticipated, that first day when she'd shaken his hand and made small talk, just how big, or how complicated, a problem he would turn out to be.

They'd crisscrossed the eastern seaboard in the last few weeks, tracking down people who were mentioned in the old case files, digging for the faintest hint of anything new or helpful, managing to find precious little. Maybe that's why Klaus was clearly going insane?

Furrowing her eyebrows Caroline leans in, trying to see if Klaus' pupils look normal. "Okay so you haven't had enough booze to explain the crazy talk. Do you take any prescriptions? Something that has wonky side effects or…"

Klaus drains the bourbon, setting the glass firmly on the bar and turning to face her, "I can assure you that I am perfectly lucid. Would you like me to recite the alphabet backwards for you?"

He sounds irked and Caroline feels a twinge or irritation grow, "First of all, no need to get snippy, okay? When one's asked to accept that _extra-terrestrials_ are the perp she's chasing one's allowed to be a teeny bit skeptical."

His posture relaxes, the tense set of his jaw softening. Klaus nods and Caroline knows him well enough to understand that's as much of a concession as she's likely to get. "You might have a point," he tells her. "And it's possible I've not given you every detail I'm privy to."

Well now that just won't do. "Um, what?" she asks sharply.

Most people would shy away when she uses that particular tone but Klaus' wince is minor. "It's sensitive information. I couldn't be sure that you could be trusted with it. But surely you've noted the abnormalities in the autopsy reports?"

Caroline had, of course. There had been eight victims from the 1960's and several oddities had been noted by the ME's who'd examined the bodies. No trace of malnourishment or dehydration and yet there'd been nothing to be found when the stomach contents had been examined. Time of death had been murky in each case. There'd been no effort to hide the bodies, and the areas they'd been found in weren't remote. And yet decomposition had suggested they'd each died weeks before they'd been found. And then there was the fact that six of the victims had never been identified despite seeming in good health overall. No missing persons reports, no grieving families, no criminal records.

Those things had nagged at her but she'd chalked it up to the years that had passed, assumed things had been lost along the way. She might have to re-examine, since it seemed like Klaus had been holding out on her.

Something they would _definitely_ be addressing later.

"Why do you trust me now?" Caroline finds herself asking. She was surprised by how much it stung hearing that he'd doubted her.

Klaus takes a long moment, clearly thinking his answer over. "You're very… determined. You've chosen a path and you're sticking to it no matter how small minded and difficult those around you are. I didn't think you were much for thinking outside the box."

A fair assumption, Caroline could admit. She drums her fingers on the bar top, "You've come to think differently?" she wonders, curious about just what's changed.

"I've seen you bend the rules when it suits you, sweetheart. Cleverly, I'll admit. You're rather more resourceful that I'd expected."

Also accurate. She might _know_ every single rule in the book but she was fully aware that some of them weren't worth her time. And if operating slightly outside of them was more efficient and effective well, wasn't that the important thing?

Caroline was a firm believer in getting shit done.

She glances over her shoulder, catches the waitress' attention before turning back to Klaus. "You're going to buy me a drink. Because my salary sucks and I know you're getting your travel expenses reimbursed. Then you're going to tell me _everything_."

"Am I?" Klaus asks, though he sounds more amused than contrary. "And then what?"

That's a question Caroline can't answer. Maybe Klaus has actually gone nutty and she'll have to google involuntary psych holds once he's done.

Somehow she doubts it.

She's going to bet that she'll need more than one drink. That she'll end up the kind of wasted she'd accused Klaus of being. She'll probably end up severely regretting her life choices tomorrow but she saw a diner down the street, the kind that probably did a killer hangover breakfast. She'd make Klaus buy that too.

It really was the least a guy could do when he managed to make you question the whole frigging universe.

**Where To Start**

**(Prompt: klaroline meets the movie 'what's your number?' Title from "Wake Me Up" by Avicii. Rated T.)**

There's someone pounding on her door. The noise had woken Caroline from an _excellent_ dream and it's really, really pissing her off.

In Caroline's opinion the very best part about being self-employed was the ability to set her own hours. These days she rarely had to get up before 10 AM. She no longer had to struggle against her lifelong hatred of early mornings. A perk that totally made the ridiculous amount of money she had to pay for health insurance worth it. Getting through high school, college, _and_ those first two years of admin hell where blaring alarms had been a necessity had been a struggle she'd only survived by downing copious amounts of coffee and indulging in the occasional dessert for breakfast.

Ice cream was filled with calcium, right? It wasn't _that_ unhealthy.

Caroline gropes for a pillow, burrows further into her nice warm comforter, and resolves to ignore whatever inconsiderate moron is attempting to disturb her. She's not expecting anyone, hasn't indulged herself in any online shopping recently, and her fire alarm and carbon monoxide detector are in perfect working order so she's not in any danger. Caroline's tired, and hung over, and she feels like she deserves to go back to sleep.

Last night's bachelorette party had turned into a nightmare. She hadn't even _wanted_ to go in the first place. Elena might have been Caroline's best friend in high school but they'd drifted pretty far apart in the years since. She'd gotten the full court press from Elena, Bonnie and Elena's mom over Christmas though. Cornered, she'd had no choice but to promise to show up.

The evening had started out well enough, the food at the restaurant had been amazing and Caroline found Elena's cousin Katherine far less scary and more amusing as an adult. They'd been the only singles at the table. Katherine had dealt with the cloying pity in her own way – a Cheshire cat smile and a suggestive remark about just how much _fun_ she had being unattached (with a lawyer from London and a sommelier from Argentina. Possibly at the same time. Caroline was fuzzy on the specifics and was going to press for details when she met up with Kat for drinks next week). Caroline had been tempted to make up a similar tale (and had lamented the fact that she would be reduced to _lying _but she'd been busy lately!). In the end she had refrained on the off chance that it would get back to her own mother. Elena was a gossip, always had been.

_That_ was not a mother daughter conversation Caroline wanted to have. Instead she'd smiled, made her very best self-deprecating jokes. Drank _heavily_. Had planned to treat herself to a manicure and some Chinese food after a good long sleep in.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to think her plans were unsatisfactory. The knocking _would not_ stop. If anything it had gotten louder and more insistent. Could people not take a _hint_? Caroline lets out groan and heaves herself out of bed. Letting out a curse (being vertical sucked at the moment) she squints around her room looking for her robe. As far as she recalls she'd stripped as soon as she walked through her door last night (and Caroline cringes a bit when she remembers she'd left her very flattering little black dress crumpled in the middle of her living room). She vaguely recalls guzzling a glass of water and brushing her teeth before collapsing into bed without bothering to put on pajamas.

Spotting the robe hanging off her closet door Caroline hurriedly throws it on. She runs her hands through her hair, dislodging the few pins that had held on through the night, as she makes her way to the door. She makes no effort to hide her hostility barking out, "What?" as she throws it open.

She falters for a moment at seeing her neighbor on the other side. Klaus lives across the hall. He'd moved in about four months ago and while she'd flirted a time or two in front of the mailboxes or when they shared the elevator she'd never thought about taking it any further. Klaus had seemed disappointed every time she'd steered a conversation in a more neutral direction but had never pressed the issue. He always seemed content to banter with her about just about everything from the best pizza places in the neighborhood to their wild theories about how some of their more eccentric neighbors made their livings. (The skinny nerd in 2C? Totally a contract killer). Sometimes she debated asking him out, trying for something _real_, but always held back.

Klaus had a pretty steady stream of women flowing in and out of his apartment. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. All very beautiful, but there was never one who showed up a second time. Caroline didn't judge, had no qualms with casual between consenting adults who took precautions. She might have considered a night with him – Klaus was attractive, accented, quick witted with the kind of easy confidence that made Caroline suspect he'd be _good_ – if not for their proximity. The idea of running into him all the time afterwards, the potential awkwardness of making small talk and trying not to think about the (hopefully many) orgasms she'd had in his company, made the prospect lose its appeal.

Still, she likes to mull over the possibilities from time to time. Sexual fantasies were normal and perfectly healthy, right?

Caroline kind of wishes she'd taken a second to deal with the makeup that's probably smeared all over her face. Although Klaus seems too busy eyeing the length of her legs the short hemline of her robe leaves bare to care about her face. "Can I help you?" she clips out, crossing her arms.

Klaus straightens, and a brief flash of embarrassment at being caught ogling is evident before he smiles. It's familiar, the charming one that she'd seen him deploy on Mrs. Kowalski when the elderly woman complained about how loud his guitar was. Clearly Klaus wanted something.

Sure enough his tone is coaxing, "Good morning, Caroline. Sorry to have awakened you."

Caroline lets her brows creep up, waves for him to continue. "Just state your business." She's mildly curious but mostly dying for a cup of coffee.

"I was wondering if you might do me a small favor."

Well, at least he'd gotten right to the point. "You need a favor right _now_? And not at the more reasonable hour of say, noon?"

Klaus hesitates, "I had a… guest last night. She seems to be quite reluctant to leave. Despite the fact that I'd thought I'd made my intentions clear last night. And all hints I've made this morning. And there have been _many_ hints."

Caroline grins, swallowing down the laugh that wants to burst out. Klaus is shifting awkwardly, his hands clasped behind his back and from the halting way the words come it's obvious he hates that he's had to resort to asking for help. Clearly she needs to milk this. "So you want me to what? Play the crazy possessive girlfriend and chase the clinger away?"

Klaus' sigh is long suffering, "If you wouldn't mind?"

"What's in it for me?" Caroline asks.

His head tips to the side, eyes narrowing with something like suspicion. Smart guy. "What would you like?"

Caroline shrugs and if her robe slips off her shoulder, drawing Klaus' eyes, she's not mad about it. One had to take every advantage available in a negotiation. "Hmm, I really couldn't say right now. It's very early, you know. My brain needs a caffeine injection to _really_ be firing on all cylinders."

"I'll owe you one," Klaus offers. "Anything you want."

Caroline snorts. Did he think she was an amateur? "You'll owe me _three_," she corrects, smiling sweetly. "_Anything_ I want."

His mouth opens and she'd bet good money that he'd been about to argue but a woman's voice calls his name from the open door of his apartment. Klaus' teeth clench together and he nods, quick and jerky. Caroline claps her hands together and bounces on her toes, pleased to have won. "Lovely doing business with you, Klaus." She steps passed him, nudging him lightly into her apartment. "Now, I'll do my part, you make me some coffee. And no, that doesn't count as one of your favors."

She can hear him grumbling in annoyance but his footsteps head towards her kitchen. Caroline squares her shoulders and tries to think like an outraged girlfriend. The dramatics aren't going to help her headache but a girl could always use some favors in the bank.

* * *

"Mission accomplished," she announces when she re-enters her apartment. "Apparently you have commitment issues that stem from your childhood. Pro tip: maybe keep the conversations a little less heavy if you're trying to keep things casual."

Klaus had settled on her couch having helped himself to some coffee. Caroline knocks his feet off her coffee table when she passes him. "All I told her was that my family moved here when I was 11. Hardly a recitation of a trauma."

"Huh, that _is_ reaching," Caroline concedes. She ducks into her bedroom, planning on brushing her teeth and putting on some actual clothes. Half expecting Klaus to have skedaddled while she was changing she finds she's not actually upset that he's still parked in her living room. She feels slightly more human having washed her face and has popped a couple painkillers so she charitably decides to be generous and not ream him out for waking her up. Caroline pours herself a bowl of cereal and some coffee, hands Klaus the cup while she sits down next to him. He passes it back absently once she's situated, his eyes fixed on a notepad she recognizes as hers. Which is… strange. "Are my ideas for my next article really all that fascinating?"

Klaus glances up, his smirk taunting, "I read your blog but I had no idea the content could get this risqué."

Caroline's momentarily confused. "There's really nothing _risqué_ about DIY storage solutions," she tells him slowly. That had been the last thing she'd been working on.

He laughs, "I agree. But that's not what I'm reading." Klaus holds up the paper so she can see. The writing is messy, goes in all sorts of directions and she has a bad feeling because it's not at all how she usually operated when planning,

Caroline leans forward, taking in the list of _very familiar_ names she'd scribbled. It takes a moment for the commentary she'd written beside them to sink in. She feels her face heat. Did Klaus really need to know that 'Stefan Salvatore had a serious case of slug tongue and minimal hand eye coordination'?" She gets a flash of a memory, of herself furiously scribbling away last night, Elena's words about that _stupid_ article circling through her head.

She can't believe she'd forgotten about the _list_.

Caroline had never really but much stock in numbers when it came to sex. Seriously, penetration was not the be all and end all of sexual acts despite what most men seemed to think. She'd had a better time fooling around under the clothes with her Chem lab partner in the library in high school than she'd had with some of the men she'd gone further with later on. Shouldn't _that_ count more than the orgasms she'd faked so a douchey banker would hurry up and finish up his stuttering thrusts?

Sober Caroline thought so. Drunk Caroline had clearly been paranoid that having more than 19 names on her list meant she was destined to die alone.

The list Klaus was now perusing.

God, that was mortifying.

She can't snatch it away without upsetting her breakfast so she glowers at him hoping he'd take the hint and _stop_ reading all about her sexual conquests.

He does not.

"Do you mind?" Caroline manages after a moment. "Hello, boundaries? I'm tacking on a fourth favor for your startling lack of them."

Klaus appears unperturbed. "Worth it. It's a very entertaining read, love. Even drunk as you must have been. That's impressive. May I ask what brought this trip down memory lane on?"

Caroline debates telling him to shove it but he seems genuinely curious and she detects not a hint of scorn. Maybe commiserating with someone else who was happy in their single life would be helpful? It's not like she can make him unread the list. She makes an aggravated noise but relents, "Just a terrible bachelorette party last night. I had the luck of being the designated spinster. You know how some people, when they've been with someone forever, they get that weird condescending, 'However do you even survive the horrible wasteland of singledom?!' attitude going?"

His face twists in sympathy and mild distaste, "My eldest brother Finn is quite the expert."

"I was surrounded by it last night. I guess they just got in my head."

"What's with the numbers?" Klaus runs his fingers down the side, where Caroline had jotted down various fractions next to each name.

"There's a key," she tells him. Her embarrassment has abated and she's weirdly surprised by how comfortable she is talking to Klaus. His complete nonchalance about the topic is enjoyable after last night's festival of judgement.

He flips a few pages and Caroline eats her cereal. "You spelled cunnilingus wrong," he informs her.

Was he _actually_ nitpicking? Rude. "I was drunk! And no one actually calls it that," she defends herself.

"It's very… precise."

"That's how I roll," Caroline jokes and Klaus smiles. "Anyway, I'm over it now. So some stupid women's magazine article says that I have to marry one of the first nineteen guys I had sex with or else I'm doomed to never be happily married. How accurate can that really be? People always lie on sex surveys."

Klaus nods in agreement, "I'd wager that's true. Besides, very few of the first nineteen scored all that highly from what I recall. You can do far better."

Ugh, her late teens and early twenties had been dark times, at least in regards to reciprocal orgasms. It was probably a good thing she'd been drunk while making that list. Without a little booze to numb the memories it would have been far more depressing.

"I have done better," Caroline points out. It comes out ever so slightly flirty and she stretches her legs out a bit, tucking her feet under his thigh. Klaus doesn't shy away from the familiar gesture, and isn't that interesting? Maybe she should rethink her reasons for deflecting Klaus' obvious interest. She wiggles her toes, pointing to the list, "As I'm sure you read."

Klaus leans back, and his eyes linger on her in a way that's distinctly appreciative. Caroline feels a little warmer than she had previously, her skin prickling with awareness of how _close_ they are. "It was, as I've said, fascinating." He pauses for a moment, meets her eyes. "Do you have any plans this evening, Caroline?"

This morning was definitely looking up.

"I do not," she says. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm playing a show tonight. I thought you might like to come."

"So I can scare off any groupies who might have designs on inspiring your next song?" Caroline wonders. It's not exactly subtle but she wants them to be on the same page.

Klaus shakes his head, a small smile pulling on his lips. "If you'd like to you're welcome to. I thought we'd have dinner afterwards. No groupies necessary."

"Like a date?"

"Yes," he confirms simply, "exactly like that."

"I was under the impression that you didn't do much dating."

Klaus shrugs, "You haven't known me all that long, have you?"

A fair point. Four months, a few short conversations a week, wasn't all that much. They'd really only scratched the surface. What she did know of Klaus she liked well enough and as weird as this morning has been Caroline honestly hasn't hated any part of it. What's the worst that could happen if she made some effort to _get_ to know him? She _did_ need a date to Elena's wedding next month. She could always call in one of her favors but if things went well she might not have to.

"Dinner sounds good," Caroline tells him and Klaus looks pleased. "And at the risk of inflating your ego I _might_ have google stalked you and listened to the things you have posted on YouTube."

His expression turns slightly smug, "Only fair since I do believe I admitted to doing much the same."

He had, hadn't he? Caroline thought that was a good thing. A sign that the leap she was taking wasn't going to end in disaster. Having a guy feign interest in what you did to get into your pants always ended badly. That Klaus had taken it upon himself to read her work when she'd been firmly shutting him down was… nice. She decides another small confession couldn't hurt, "I've totally debated showing up to see you play but didn't want to seem like a creep."

"I would not have minded." Klaus assures her immediately. "Do you have any favorites?" he asks, making no effort to hide his curiosity.

Caroline thinks it over, mentally debating whether to tell him her actual favorites (the ones that will make it hard for her to resist ripping his clothes off post show but pre dinner…) or going with something that she _liked_ but hadn't inspired dirty thoughts. A tough decision. "Can I let you know?" she asks.

Klaus responds in the affirmative, though he looks mildly perplexed. He asks her about other music she likes, showing no intention of leaving.

Which was fine with Caroline. It'll give her more time to decide on an answer _and_ on exactly how she wanted her date with Klaus to end.

She's going to wear good underwear though. Just in case.


	58. klarolineauweek3 AU: Because Magic!

**Notes: **For day 3 of klarolineauweek! The theme was Because Magic.

**Bloody Thump**

**(Prompt: kc + "We were sent back in time from a spell gone wrong and got stranded in the forest. It has only been a day, but I'm freaking out and... are you giving me bedroom eyes NOW OF ALL TIMES?!" AU Title from "Sour Cherry" by The Kills. Rated T).**

They're trudging silently, and it's _not_ a comfy silence. No, it was a seething, awkward _awful_ silence and Caroline's skin crawled, every part of her _dying_ to break it, as it dragged on and on and on.

She grits her teeth and resists the temptation, calling on her vast reserves of stubbornness.

Talking to Klaus had proven to be a very bad idea and she's not about to try it again. She was stuck with him until Bonnie was safe and sound then she could go on with her preferred Klaus management plan – pretending like he didn't even exist. For Bonnie she could endure the discomfort of the scornful glares Klaus kept tossing over his shoulder as he checked to make sure Caroline was keeping up.

They were kind of dumb and pointless, Caroline thought snidely. If she was going to leave she would have done it ages ago after they'd finished shouting at each other.

She pointedly ignores his eyes, scanning her surroundings. It hits her that she recognizes them, this particular path one she'd walked often as a child. Caroline used to spend her summers tearing through them with whatever friends could be coaxed outside to lose at hide and seek. She takes a sharp left, kicking branches out of her way to reveal an overgrown path. She doesn't bother to inform Klaus about the detour she was taking. He'd figure it out soon enough.

She hears a guttural curse a few moments later and smiles grimly in satisfaction. The leaves behind her rustle and Caroline walks faster once she can feel Klaus practically breathing down her neck. I thought," he says, his anger evident in the extra crisp way he enunciates, "that we'd established that I do, in fact, know how to read a map."

"We did," she agrees, matching his overly polite tone with a frosty one of her own. "But since I grew up here I don't need a map to tell me there's a huge, gross bog like fifty feet ahead. Elena and I used to tell Jeremy it would eat him if he got too close. Feel free to plow on through but I just bought these boots and they weren't cheap."

"Here I thought you were _desperate_ to save the Bennett witch." Klaus mocks. "And yet you can't even sacrifice your shoes to the task? Such _friendship_."

The noise Caroline lets out is low and disgusted and she needs to get away from him. Right now. Before she does something stupid and probably violent. She leaps forward, easing into her top speed within a few strides, whipping past trees so quickly they're nothing but a blur from the corner of her eye.

Klaus keeps up, could probably easily pass her, but he stays at her heels.

That turns out to be unfortunate.

Caroline's hit with a wave of something, nausea and a feeling of dizziness that she didn't think she'd ever be subjected to again. She stops abruptly and Klaus slams into her back, sending them both crashing to the forest floor. She lands hard, her wrist snapping on impact, and she lets out a high pitched yelp, rolling to her side and cradling it to her stomach. "Son of a bitch," she hisses, eyes shut tightly as she tries to push the pain away so she can figure out what's wrong.

Vampires didn't puke and she really felt like she might.

She can feel Klaus behind her on the ground. He's tense, his breathing harsh and audible so she assumes he's in much the same state as she is. Which isn't good _at all_.

Caroline heaves herself onto her back, intent on asking Klaus what _the hell_ is happening, but an immense weight settles onto her chest, and she chokes on his name. His eyes fly open, wide and alarmed, a hoarse grunt the only sound he seems capable of making. She watches in horror as his face begins to turn blue, as he struggles, even as she weakly kicks her legs in a futile attempt to dislodge whatever imaginary force that is suffocating her, her panic growing with every inhale she skips.

This is how she'd died.

It's not something she'd ever wanted to relive though sometimes her subconscious was a real piece of work that liked to torture her. Caroline occasionally experiences nightmares that left her bed soaked in sweat and her unable to even contemplate going back to sleep. This is worse.

She feels a something brush against her fingers just as darkness bleeds into her field of vision. Caroline finds herself latching on instinctively, Klaus' hand hot in hers.

At least she's not alone this time.

* * *

Just like the last time she'd been smothered Caroline awakens with a gasp, disoriented to find herself alive when she'd been sure it was the end. She flinches at the touch to her shoulder, relaxes when she recognizes the voice. It's pitched soft and reassuring, and her hair is smoothed from her face by careful fingers. "Shh, Caroline. You're fine. It's me."

His hand wraps around her bicep, tugging her up gently and she lets Klaus help her sit upright. Her body _aches_, her bones feel ground together and brittle. She swallows hard, cracking her neck with a grimace. "Ugh. What was _that_?"

"Magic," Klaus supplies succinctly. "Powerful stuff."

"Of course it was," Caroline grumbles. She squints at her surroundings, the thick canopy of trees. They're not the same ones that had been there when she'd blacked out. Had Klaus moved her for some reason?

Klaus speaks again, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Caroline laughs, dry and harsh, "Awesome. Of course you do. Some freaking rainbows and sunshine is obviously too much to ask for. Lay it on me, Klaus. What steaming heap of total _shit_ have we landed in?"

He sighs, nods behind her and Caroline turns slowly mindful of the protesting of her sore muscles. There are two men standing in a tiny clearing, staring vacantly into the distance. By itself, that wouldn't have alarmed Caroline but she's smart enough to quickly note the many things that are _off_ about them.

They have a horse, which isn't exactly normal. And they're dressed in dull brown tones, leather leggings and coarse looking shirts that she can only describe as tunics. They're dusty looking, with scraggly beards and long hair.

What are the odds Klaus found two cosplayers in the forest in Mystic Falls? Not good.

"No way," Caroline breathes out. She gropes blindly for Klaus, her nails digging into the skin of his forearm when she grasps it. "_Please_ tell me I'm hallucinating. Hell, tell me you're _Silas_. Tell me I have gone completely insane and you're visiting me in a vampire looney bin."

Klaus makes no move to shake off her hold. His tone remains gentle and it's beginning to freak Caroline out. He's majorly pissed at her right now, she knows. The fact that he's making an effort to be _kind_ means they are _completely_ screwed. "I'm afraid I can't tell you any of those things, sweetheart."

"Who are they?" she asks, though she has a pretty good idea.

"Dinner," Klaus announces, blithely confirming her suspicions.

He begins to stand and Caroline hurriedly follows him, using her grip on him to haul herself up so she doesn't have to move the wrist that's still throbbing. "You can't _eat_ them," she insists. ""It's a basic rule of time travel! Change nothing. What if you kill them and screw up their ancestors? Maybe that one's great great great times whatever grandson cures polio or something!"

Klaus' face creases in skepticism, "I think you watch far too much television, love. Careful, it'll rot your brain."

She shakes him roughly, annoyed at the condescension. "Tell me, oh great knowing one, have you ever time traveled before? Did you even _know_ it was a thing?"

"No," Klaus admits, and she can tell it _kills_ him. "Few witches possess the sort of power your little friend can call upon so I going to assume it's exceedingly difficult to make happen."

"We don't _have_ to kill them," Caroline presses. "Drink enough to get by and send them on their way. What's the harm in being cautious?"

Klaus' eyes roll upward but he concedes, "Fine."

Caroline cracks a smile, finally releasing his arm, "Murder," she jokes, "not _always_ the answer, who knew?"

"_Not_ true. I've found it's often the most expedient way to go about things." Caroline levels him with an unimpressed look (was that _revelation_ supposed to be surprising?) and Klaus smirks, gesturing to the men. "But we can agree to disagree. Ladies first."

Caroline's eyes widen, realizing he wants her to drink from them, _in front of him_, and her stomach clenches as her nerves go haywire. She's never _done_ that, unless you counted choking down thin, bitter animal blood in while Stefan watched. Somehow she doesn't think it's going to be similar, knows that Klaus watching her feed is in a whole other ballpark. One Caroline is pretty sure is way too dangerous to play in.

She takes a step back, glancing anywhere but at Klaus' curious face, unable to help babbling out a denial. "Oh! No, I mean… I'm fine. Good. Really, I had a huge breakfast so I don't need…"

Klaus scoffs, reaching out and tapping the injured wrist she's kept close to her body. It's the lightest touch imaginable, barely more than a brush, but it still sends a hot bolt of agony shooting up her arm. Caroline sucks in a breath through her teeth to keep from shouting, turning slightly so he can't repeat the action easily. "You're injured," he says, unnecessarily pointing out the obvious. "Judging from what they told me before you woke we've got quite a walk before we get to what passes for civilization in this century. You…"

"What century is that?" Caroline interrupts.

"Early 17th. I believe I recall a witch relatively nearby who might get us some answers. I don't know about you but I'm not content to wait on anyone who might deign to rescue us."

Caroline's in agreement. With everything going on at home she'd bet that 'Find Caroline and Klaus' would rank pretty low on the priority list. And wasn't _that_ a depressing thought. She'd need to save her own ass and she was smart enough to know that Klaus – with his bajillion years and old connections – was her best bet for getting home.

"Then I'll find a meal when we get to wherever we're going," Caroline tries. At least then she could feed _privately_.

The low noise Klaus lets out is nearly a growl. "You drink from them and you'll heal in an hour or so. Otherwise it could take days. It's perfectly simple. Unless," Klaus continues, a challenging glint in his eye as he pulls his sleeve up and lifts his arm, "they're not to your taste? I suppose I could be content to donate some of my blood."

Um, no. That's not happening. She's not proud of the dreams she's had about Klaus the other times she'd had to drink his blood. Does her very best not to think of them. There's no way she's risking a repeat when they're likely going to be forced to remain in close proximity in the coming days.

One look at the determined set of Klaus' face tells Caroline that this is not a fight he's going to let go of. She considers her options. They can go back and forth, for god knows how long, or they can actually get on with the business of figuring out a way to get back to the 21st century with its conveniently packaged blood and indoor plumbing.

Throwing up her good hand in exasperation Caroline relents, "Ugh, fine. Just _don't_ watch me. It's creepy."

She stalks passed him, scrutinizes the two men carefully, trying to figure out which one is less filthy. There's no clear winner and in the end she approaches the larger of the two, attempting a reassuring smile. He doesn't react, and she gently nudges his head to the side, standing on her tiptoes to get at the artery in his neck. "Sorry," she mumbles, letting her fangs descend.

She can feel Klaus watching her, even though she'd asked him not to. Caroline hopes he can't see that her hands are trembling.

She bites down, trying not to tear too badly. Wounds were iffy these days, right? Antibiotics weren't something people had available. Caroline figures there's no need to make her argument to let the humans live be _completely_ pointless.

Until the blood hits her tongue, rich and sweet, and all she can think is _more_.

A hungry little noise falls from her, muffled in skin and she presses closer, her eyes falling shut in bliss as her hands grip with more force. The man doesn't struggle, he's docile under Caroline's hold. Some dark part of her, one she keeps carefully buried, wishes that he _would_.

It's been _so long_ since she's had this.

Blood from bags is fine, does the trick and keeps her going, but the slight plastic-y aftertaste kind of marred the whole experience. It's like diet food, artificial and not wholly satisfying.

This is a _feast_, decadent and delicious, and Caroline forgets to be careful, gulping greedily, uncaring that she's spilling.

It's Klaus who tears her away, and she whirls on him with a snarl. He blocks that hand that had gone for his throat, easily propelling her back and using his hips to press her against the tree. His fangs are out, eyes glowing hybrid yellow, and his voice is a rough grate that makes Caroline shiver, "Easy, love. You're the one who didn't want to kill."

She swallows, tries to breathe through her nose, grasping for sense. Klaus' eyes have fallen to her lips, hot and intent. Caroline goes very still as his hand comes up to cup her face. "So pretty when you let yourself be what you were meant to be," he rumbles, his thumb swiping up the trail of blood that had dripped down her chin.

She can't do anything but watch as he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking the blood from it with a low, satisfied hum. She feels it, in all the places they're pressed together, and her stomach clenches with something that's definitely _not_ nerves.

It's arousal. Thick and potent. The smallest nudge away from becoming need.

Klaus could dip his head, lick the rest of the blood from her mouth. Caroline knows she wouldn't do anything to stop him. She would open to him, welcome his weight pinning her to the tree. Her legs would wrap around his hips and she'd sink her fangs into his plush lower lip so she could taste _him_. She would smile when he moaned for her.

She almost grabs for him when he pushes off the tree, the stab of pain from her still healing hand the thing that stops her, lets the smallest cold breeze of rationality creep in.

Caroline sags against the tree, blearily watching Klaus walk back to the two travellers as she tried to get her body under control. She forces her fangs away, wills her heart to stop pounding. The way he moves is mesmerizing, the deliberate steps he takes. She'd almost call it hunting. Distantly she realizes that watching him feed is a _terrible_ idea feeling like she does now. There's blood in her mouth, exhilaration in her veins, the echo of the feel of him pressed against her lingering on her skin. She's feels a little out of control. She feels like she could do _anything_ and Caroline finds she kind of likes it.

She should turn away.

She doesn't.

Klaus isn't careful like she had been, Caroline notes, his hands adjusting the man's body to his satisfaction. There are no apologies made as he prepares to take, no delicate slicing through flesh.

He bites and her mouth waters, a pang of envy nagging at her.

She doesn't look away, not even when Klaus finishes, leaves the man he'd fed from swaying on his feet. He turns and Caroline's eyes drop to his bloody mouth. His smirk is feral, _inviting_ and she wonders what blood tastes like on his tongue.

She is in _so much_ trouble.


	59. klarolineauweek3: AU: All Human

**Notes:** For Day Four of klarolineauweek AU: All Human.

**Bottle Full of Charm**

**(Based on a graphic posted on Tumblr! A bit of a flip on the tattoo artist/florist trope WHICH I LOVE. Title from "Shee la na gig" by PJ Harvey. Rated T.)**

It's a pretty Tuesday in early fall when she first spots them.

She's in a great mood, would probably be humming if she wasn't in public. It's the kind of morning that left Caroline walking more slowly than she usually would to savor the perfect crispness in the air. She sipped her morning coffee with her head tipped slightly back to bask in the faint warmth of the sun.

Had she known what was about to transpire, that a hiccup in her life was just around the corner, she probably would have paid more attention to her surroundings.

The street her shop is on is quiet this time of year, most of the businesses have few employees and they're just starting to arrive.

Sass Monsters Ink (_not_ Caroline's pick but drunk Kat had thought it hilarious and it had somehow ended up on the permit forms and then they'd been stuck) is near the middle of the block. Door's opened at 10 but she usually tried to be there by 9 to look over the day's appointments, take care of any lingering bookkeeping and check the messages. Bonnie and Enzo, the two artists they'd taken on last year when the workload became too much, alternated who would show up first to take any walk ins and Kat usually breezed in a half hour before her first appointment to check that her apprentice had set everything up to her satisfaction. After his first week Matt had figured out Kat's preferences so it wasn't really necessary for Kat to be early but Caroline thought she just liked to mess with him. Matt was a blue eyed hottie who didn't look like the type to be into tattoos (not that Caroline could judge – she'd gotten plenty of surprised exclamations once she unveiled the ink that along down her body, often covered by a personal style that leaned slightly preppy). Caroline was _really_ hoping Katherine didn't sleep with him. Their shop was tiny but flourishing and no desire to have to draft any workplace fraternization rules. Bonnie and Enzo were flirty and adorable and she did _not_ want to mess that up. It was too entertaining.

Caroline hadn't been on a date in forever. She thought she deserved a little vicarious romantic living through others who were having more success in that department.

Their little neighborhood is eclectic (some might snidely call it hipster) with independently owned cafés and bookstores and shops lining the streets. As much as small town life had chafed at Caroline when she'd been a teen dying to get out of Mystic Falls she kind of loved the slice of it she'd found here. She knows all the other owners by sight, can stop and have a conversation with just about any of them.

It's when she looks up to wave at Alaric, who owns a rare bookstore (and if she's pretty sure he spikes his morning coffee with a healthy slosh of booze Caroline tries not to judge), that she spots something out of place.

A black SUV. It's huge, the windows darkly tinted, the rims so shiny Caroline imagines she could easily apply lipstick in their reflection. It looks freaking expensive (and it's so not eco conscious) and it sticks out like a sore thumb among the bike racks and the few reasonably sized vehicles - mostly old models or new hybrids - that line the street.

Maybe someone was lost?

It's parked in front of what used to be a gelato shop (Caroline really missed the sweet old couple who had run it, and their habanero flavor – weird on paper but she still _craved_ it) that had been vacant for going on four months. A steady stream of prospective buyers had trickled in and out, but so far no firm interest. Caroline had cornered the real estate agent early on, looking for anything she could use. It was only smart, _conscientious_. The wrong neighbors could hurt her business, the right ones could give them a boost.

A little flirting had wielded some useful info – apparently the wiring in the place desperately needed to be redone, making it an investment that was proving to be a hard sell despite the prime location.

The agent had boasted that it would be a minor setback, that he was confident that he'd have someone settled in the property within the month. He'd been a little oily and a lot condescending so Caroline couldn't say she felt bad that he was so very wrong.

She'd tossed his card the second she'd been out of his line of sight and she'd been careful to avoid him ever since.

To continue that streak, she really needs to quit dawdling. Casting one last glance at the SUV Caroline hurries across the street, juggling her coffee, the croissants she'd picked up to share (hopefully it was Enzo's day to open because she _would_ fight Bonnie for the chocolate one) while she fishes her keys out of the bag. She's almost got them when she hears the bell across the street jangling and she glances up from her bag. She has a decent view in the reflection of her shop's window, sees three men – one she recognizes as Damon the incompetent real estate agent – and two she doesn't think she's ever seen before.

Caroline observes them closely (hey, it's recon, okay?), filing away what she can and hoping they don't notice her. One of the unfamiliar men is dark haired and they're both wearing what look to be very well tailored suits though the one with fairer hair has discarded his jacket. She can't hear what they're talking about, but _they are_ talking, lingering just outside the shop's door.

Caroline was pretty sure that meant they hadn't dismissed the place outright like most others had. Ugh, if only she could stomach another conversation with that Damon guy. Then she could weasel their names out of him, what kind of business they were in, and do some google stalking. She debates falling on her sword and going over there anyway – it's not like she can't shut down his come ons - but decides it's not worth it. For all she knew the two suits were just being polite and she'd never see them again.

She'll reevaluate if they happen to make a repeat appearance. Until then she was going to try her best not to worry about it.

Key word being_ try_.

* * *

The suits came back the next week.

Unfortunately, Caroline hadn't been there – she took Wednesday's off. But the small town atmosphere meant everyone knew everyone's business so she'd heard all about it. Suits stuck out, only seen around on the occasional business type who wandered over on a lunch break. When Caroline stopped by the cheese shop Thursday before she headed home she was given a play by play though not the kind she would have preferred. The scoop was that they'd hung around for almost an hour, had conferred out on the side walk and had been intent on a tablet. Caroline had pressed for a description, got one that generally matched the one in her head (with the added bonus of finding out that one of the suits had excellent dimples and if Mrs. Bellanger had been twenty years younger she would have attempted to, 'Ride it like she stole it,").

Slightly scarring and Caroline thanked her pageant background for her ability to smile politely through just about anything.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to have had caught a name – personal _or_ professional.

Seriously, did no one but her _care_ about the balance of their street? What if it was direct competition for someone? She'd bet Mrs. Bellanger wouldn't be so blithe if someone else were to start shilling fine imported cheese. What if it was something awful like a vape shop? Some place that only sold golf equipment?

Or worse, a _franchise_.

They had a delicate, _flawless_ ecosystem set up. Caroline was very pleased with how business was going, the steady uptick in tattoos they did. She had money earmarked for Christmas bonuses and the upgrade fund got a little extra padding every month. The desks and cabinets she'd thrifted and painstakingly restored with her own two hands worked with the shop's aesthetic, made people feel comfortable, and softened the clinical look of the black leather tattoo chairs. Occasionally they weren't entirely functional (no matter how much she'd sanded the one at the front desk _still_ stuck), however. She'd been hoping to replace them by the end of the year.

And Caroline couldn't do that if something awful popped up and screwed with the good thing she had going.

She manages to smile absently as Mrs. Bellanger wraps up her gruyere. She's already making lists in her head, considering avenues of research.

Good thing she can eat the grilled cheese with one hand because there's no way she was going to be able to wait until after dinner to start planning. Caroline had never been very patient when presented with a project, and few things were as important to her as the business she'd built.

She wasn't going to allow _anything_ to mess with it.

* * *

Annoyingly, the research quickly hit a wall. Caroline had attempted endless online searches, read countless blog posts that mentioned her neighborhood or her street hoping for some little whisper about interest in a vacant storefront. She stayed up way later than she should have but found absolutely nothing. No dots that could be connected or paths that she could follow.

A setback, she told herself optimistically. Not a defeat.

The next evening she switched tactics, filled a spreadsheet with options. Ways she could advertise, spread the word about Sass Monsters, possible ideas for cross promotional opportunities with nearby businesses. Kat hated tattoo conventions, she liked to take her time with bigger more elaborate pieces now that she had the recognition to do so, but Caroline thought she could wheedle her into one. Katherine was a tough nut to crack but Caroline had long since realized that she had a soft gooey center for a select few people. Caroline was well aware she was on that short list and she took great pains not to exploit it too often – and Kat could usually be needled or blackmailed so it was rarely necessary. But the option was there and Caroline _would_ use it if things began to go downhill.

She went to bed as a decent hour, pleased to feel just a little more in control. Still, the lack of progress in connecting a name to a suit continued to _bug_ her over the coming days. It's always there, in the back of her mind, the knowledge that she just needed one little clue.

She's dwelling on it again when Kat's low whistle breaks into her thoughts. Caroline glances up, dropping the pen that had really been more of a prop considering she hadn't actually been doing anything productive, and glances over the top of the desk.

Kat's been lounging on the chairs in the waiting area, heels discarded and her bare feet propped up on the sill (a habit she had tried to break Kat of, to no avail. At least Matt was good about wiping off the tiny toe prints on the window). Her client's running late, which ordinarily would piss Kat right off but she actually likes this one (he's been seeing her for years and is an excellent tipper). Last time Caroline had checked she'd been idly flipping through a fashion magazine, occasionally asking Caroline for opinions (and then mocking Caroline for said opinions). _Something_ has caught her attention. The magazine's fallen to the floor and she's gazing out the window with a sort of rapt calculation that makes Caroline wary.

Kat's a predator and that particular look usually means she'd spotted something tasty.

Caroline rolls her chair back and rises, circling the desk. "What?" she asks. "Is the hot parking cop back?"

Katherine snorts, "Nope. I think this is even _better_, if you can believe that."

Surprising. Kat had been a big fan of watching the hot cop bend to write citations and Caroline could admit the dark blue uniform pants he wore did _very_ good things for him.

"Man candy," Kat says as Caroline comes up beside her. "Straight ahead."

There's a little bit of foot traffic but Caroline spots who Katherine means immediately. They do stick out. "The suits," she grouses, crossing her arms. "I can't believe they're back again."

She takes the opportunity to study them now that she has a direct line. They're about the same height, and the dark haired one's clothing is so immaculate, his posture so perfect that Caroline's own spine straightens automatically. His hair is neat, and his full attention is on whatever Damon's saying. The other's not so polite, his mind seems to be wandering, scanning the street and the people walking around. He's the one with the dimples and Caroline can just make out a hint of scruff on his jaw. He's once again down to just his shirt, the sleeves of the blue cotton rolled up.

Katherine's head had snapped in Caroline's direction and she wears a faint expression of betrayal, "You've seen them before? And you didn't call me over so I could co-ogle? We've been friends for years, Care Bear. I am _hurt_."

"You weren't here!" Caroline defends herself. "It was early, before we opened. Besides, you can't ogle the _enemy_."

"Um, yes I can. Hate sex is the best sex. Although I maybe you've forgotten that? And why exactly are they 'the enemy?'"

Kat sounds skeptical and Caroline can maybe admit she might be being a little harsh. But something about them pinged her trouble radar and she was _not_ looking for any of that. "This is the third time they've looked at the gelato place. At least. I'm thinking they're buying it and I have zero intel about what they're planning on putting in there and that is completely unacceptable. Come on, look at them. It's probably a freaking Pick Up Artist Emporium or something. We'll be surrounded by fedoras."

Kat has the nerve to throw her head back and laugh. "Easy, General Judgy. They look way too classy for that."

"Maybe that's their business model," Caroline mutters, knowing that she's maybe being a little ridiculous. Her gut instinct stood, and she trusted it.

"Caroline, come on. It'll be fine. I highly doubt they're planning on nuking the block. So what if they buy the place? At least we'll have something pretty to look at."

"Kat, this is not a time to let your hormones run the show."

"Says the girl who hasn't let her hormones run _anything_ in months," Kat shoots back.

Caroline levels her with a glare because low blow. She'd been busy, okay? Two new artists meant tons of new clients meant an uptick in the amount of paper work and bookings Caroline had to deal with. Kat was brilliant at what she did, and Caroline gave her tons of credit for their success. But there was a reason she'd spent her entire career renting chairs in other people's shops (usually for a limited amount of time since Katherine was… an acquired taste) and had a tough time building her own core client base. Kat had little patience for the tedious stuff – order forms and ensuring they met health codes and painstakingly walking people through pricing.

She might have scoffed at Caroline's idea in the beginning but Caroline had been determined, had every base covered, shot down every doubt Katherine had raised. And now here they were.

Caroline nods to herself, a decision made. She turns away from the window, and faces Katherine. "Switch shirts with me."

Kat's nose wrinkles as she eyes the well-worn pale pink t-shirt Caroline is wearing. "Ew, no thank you."

"Kat, come on." Caroline walks over to one of the full length mirrors, and pulls her hair out of the bun it had been trapped in. She fluffs her curls around her shoulders. "Didn't you hear me? This is the _third_ time those suits have visited. They wouldn't keep coming back if they weren't interested. And I _need_ to know who they are."

"And that requires my shirt _why_?"

"Duh. Because I don't want them to know who _I_ am. So I'm going to play the dumb blonde, flirt a little. Use my boobs as a distraction to scam more info out of them."

"While I am always a fan of you using your boobs, Caroline, and again, you really should do it more often, I don't get why I can't just go?"

Caroline lets out a disgusted noise and rummages around Bonnie's station for the tube of gloss she knows is there. "I am well aware you have a type, Kat. You've been eying Dark-Haired-And-Stern's perfect ass like you want to take a bite. I don't trust you not to have sex with him in his SUV and forget you're on a recon mission."

Katherine turns to stare out the window again, a wicked smirk curving her lips, "Yeah, you've probably got a point. I would not say no to wrecking that fancy suspension. And ruining him for other women, of course."

Exactly as Caroline had suspected. "Tell you what, if things go badly you can totally let loose, do your worst. Maybe you'll ruin him so badly that he never wants to set foot in this end of the city again after you crush his heart. Then boom, problem solved."

"Or maybe he's my soulmate and we'll get married and move to the suburbs," Katherine deadpans.

She manages to hold her serious expression for approximately three seconds before both she and Caroline burst out laughing. When she manages to calm Caroline repeats her request, "Shirt, Kat. Please? I think I have something nicer in my office if you want."

"Is it pink? You know I hate pink."

Caroline shrugs, "It might be. I like pink."

Katherine lets out a long sigh but obligingly (and shamelessly) tugs her black tank top over her head and tosses it at Caroline. "I'll remember this, Forbes," she tosses over her shoulder.

Katherine almost plows into Enzo who's coming from the back hallway. His brows rise but he seems unsurprised to see his boss walking around the shop topless. "What'd I miss?" he asks curiously.

Turning back to the window Caroline checks to make sure Kat's impromptu peep show didn't raise any brows. No one's staring back so she assumes they're in the clear. "I'll tell you later. Right now I've got a little errand to run."

* * *

She ducks out the back door, takes the long way around. Stops in at the café on the corner and treats herself to a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream (and ignores the blatant flirting that Kol, the owner, likes to engage in with basically everyone with a pulse). He's smoking hot and all but Caroline's never going to go there. She liked his café too much to make herself avoid it if things got awkward. One night stands were easy to find, fried pies that rivaled the ones she'd grown up with were not.

Caroline takes a deep breath as she leaves, checking to make sure that the suit's SUV was still there. She's in luck (or not. Sticking around meant planning, didn't it?) and it hasn't moved. She wanders in that direction, pausing ever so often to pretend that she's window shopping. She pays close attention to what's happening, knows she can't risk approaching while Damon's underfoot. He'll recognize her, blow the whole thing. She's got her fingers crossed that she'll see an opening.

When Damon gets a call and takes his leave Caroline resists the urge to cheer. She watches them say a few (hopefully parting) words and shake hands before Damon walks away. When he disappears around the block Caroline takes a chance and moves in for the kill.

She stops directly in front of the two men she was targeting, glancing up at the blank sign over the door. She affixes a surprised expression to her face. She lets it drop, does her best to appear disappointed, and lets out a forlorn sigh.

A voice rings out from behind her, the English accent surprising, "Can I help you, Miss?"

Caroline bites the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Hook, line sinker. Things were going _exactly_ as she'd planned. She turns slowly, lets a little extra bit of the south creep in when she speaks. "I'm not sure if you can. Do you know if the cute little shop that used to be here moved somewhere?"

It's the fairer haired one who'd spoken and up close she can see what Mrs. Bellanger meant. She tries not to stare at his mouth, but it's well formed and _very_ tempting. She makes a concentrated effort not to look downwards. Rolled up shirtsleeves were a man's push up bra and Caroline refused to be distracted from her mission. "Closed, I'm afraid," he tells her and seems genuinely apologetic, as if he's was actually sorry she'd been let down. "The owner's retired, I believe."

She pouts a little, notes he has no problem letting his eyes linger on _her_. "Darn. I always loved stopping by."

"Are you not from here?" he asks, taking another small step in her direction.

"Nope. I live in Richmond. Just come up occasionally to get away, shop. You know. What about you? You don't _sound_ like you're from around here."

He smiles warmly, "Not originally, no. But I do live in the city. We just bought this building, actually. We're waiting on someone to begin hashing out the renovations we'll need to undertake."

It's a challenge to stay in character. That's _not_ what she'd wanted to here. It meant her options had dwindled, and she had to cross her fingers and send some happy thoughts to the universe that whatever he was planning on putting in his new building wouldn't be disastrous for her.

Caroline returns his smile and closes the distance a little more, their toes nearly brushing. "Oh? And how's _your_ gelato?"

His laugh is quiet, and he sways closer, "Sorry to disappoint, love. But that's not _quite_ the business we're in. How do you feel about flowers?"

Caroline arches a brow, "Don't all women like flowers?"

"Well, not the one's with allergies."

Her smile is real, and she's kind of annoyed. With herself (because she wasn't supposed to _actually_ be flirting!) and with him. Why did he have to be so freaking charming? He was the _enemy_.

"Fair point," Caroline concedes, nodding in mock seriousness. "So you're a florist? Can't say I'd have _pegged_ that." She lets her eyes drop, blatantly checking him out. Her eyes catch on his arms (damn it, she knew better!) and immediately fly back up. Only to stop on what she at first thinks is a discoloration on his shirt but quickly realizes that it's a little too uniform. It's a tattoo, and she can't help but want to know exactly what it is. Sue her, it was technically her business. Caroline squints, before she realizes what she's doing and hurriedly looks away.

And now she's blushing. That's just great.

He's been silent while she looked her fill and when she peeks back at him his lips have curled into a smirk. A very smug smirk that widens under her gaze. Caught, she meets his eyes again. "Oh?" he teases, "And what would you have guessed? And mind my delicate ego, if you please."

Yeah, Caroline did not but that his ego was in any way delicate. This guy was _very_ sure of himself, had oodles of confidence. She tips her head to the side, decides to be a little mean. "Well, based on the suit I'd say some sort of corporate drone? Is that guy your boss?"

"Elijah? Hardly, whatever he might think. Elder brothers are such a trial."

Hmm, an interesting tidbit. A family business _might_ be okay. "I wouldn't know. Only child."

His attention is pulled away from her as another vehicle pulls up to the curb. "Ah, that'll be Marcel." His hand reaches into his pocket and he withdraws a card. He offers it to her. "Most people call me Klaus."

Caroline takes the card, runs her eyes over the name. Then over the _very_ familiar logo. Horror brews in her stomach as she realizes that her worst fears are coming true.

He's not a florist. He's a Mikaelson.

He owns a _chain_ of flower shops. The bouquets they sold were cookie cutter horrors that you could order via a website and have delivered the next day. Made to be identical and uniform. It was the kind of place where employees wore matching aprons and boring white shirts and had _scripts_ to follow when dealing with customers.

Everything her shop, and her neighborhood, were _not_ about.

He _was_ going to bring new people in. _Awful_ people. People like the women who sniffed at Kat's tattoo sleeves and sneered at the healing crystals Bonnie swore by and side eyed Enzo like he was going to lift their purses. They would silently set beady judging eyes on the sort of clients who streamed in and out of Sass Monsters, killing the friendly, welcoming aura Caroline had worked to create.

Klaus is watching her carefully though Caroline can't quite quantify the expression on his face. Another man speaks from behind them, curious and coolly polite, "Niklaus? Are you ready to get started?"

A brief look of exasperation flits over his features, "One moment, Elijah." He turns his full attention back to her. "I've got to go. It was lovely to meet you, Caroline. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other around."

He moves to brush passed her but Caroline sidesteps, putting herself directly in his path. He nearly stumbles before catching his balance, "Wait a minute. How do you know my name?" she demands.

The smugness has returned and it's infuriating. His hand ghosts over her arm and he leans in, voice dropping, "Why don't you give me a call when you figured it out? I'll tell my assistant to put you right through. I suspect it'll be a delightful conversation."

What did that even _mean_?

He's gone before she can push for an explanation, falling easily into conversation with his brother and the man who'd joined them (also ridiculously good looking and she hoped Kat's client had shown up otherwise Matt would be stuck cleaning drool off the windows). She can feel his eyes on her though, all the way across the street.

Caroline turns at the doorway, throws one last glare over her shoulder. Klaus has the gall to _wave_ at her.

She swallows down a frustrated scream and resists the urge to stomp away into her office, mindful of the fact that they have clients currently having permanent ink shoved under their skin. Distractions were never a good thing.

Kat's in deep concentration mode, thankfully. "How'd it go?" she asks absently, as Caroline walks in.

"I'll tell you later. I need to do some research." Right after she had a silent, _private_, freak out.

Then she'd get to work.

He'd known her name somehow. That meant she had some catching up to do. Caroline was going to find out everything she possibly could about Klaus Mikaelson, his family, his company.

Then they'd see who walked away from their next conversation with a _smile_.


	60. klarolineauweek3 AU: Canon-ish

**Notes: **These were for AU: Canon-ish day of klarolineauweek. One sfw one not. Enjoy and I'd love to hear what you thought!

**Run Right Back**

**(Prompt: baroline gtfo of mystic falls post S4 and end up getting into a little bit of magical trouble. when klaus rescues them, he expects gratitude, not caroline chewing him out for "assigning her a stalker" Title from "Run Right Back" by The Black Keys. Rated T.)**

It was yet another evening at The Grill, and Caroline was _not_ having a good time. She was _sick_ of watching Damon and Elena make really obvious sex eyes at each other. Seriously, Damon had _plenty_ of rooms. Could they not _get_ one and stop making the rest of Mystic Falls wanna puke? They didn't even need to keep it down since Stefan wasn't around to make things awkward with his brooding face.

No, Stefan had taken off after graduation, being all noble and self-sacrificing.

Hey, _there_ was an idea.

The leaving. Not the martyr thing.

Spinning on her stool, she reaches out to grab Bonnie's arm. "Bon. Let's get out of here."

Bonnie looks every bit as bored as Caroline feels, and her eyebrows creep up, "Like go home? I guess but it's kind of early, isn't it?"

Caroline shakes her head, "No, like out of Mystic Falls. I am so freaking done with this place right now. Tyler's taking his sweet time coming home, my mom's never around because she's covering all the deputies' vacations. I literally ate ice cream for dinner yesterday. I need to _do_ something. I'm thinking road trip?"

"Have you been drinking? I thought the bartender wouldn't serve you during business hours 'cause your mom freaks him out."

She tosses a glare in said bartender's direction though it's completely wasted because he's busy mixing a cocktail. Matt just _had_ to jet off to Europe leaving them completely without an in at the bar. "No, he's still sticking to that. Unfortunately. The only thing I'm drunk on is high fructose corn syrup and the realization that we're _wasting_ our summer. Come on, don't you remember how we used to talk about all the awesome things we were going to do when we graduated? An epic road trip was _totally_ on that list."

Bonnie still looks skeptical, "I don't know, Care. It's kind of last minute."

"So? Do you honestly have anything better to do? I thought I was supposed to be the obsessive compulsive control freak here. If I can roll with a little spontaneity you can too. Let's _live_ a little!" Caroline exclaims, shaking her Bonnie's arm lightly in her building excitement.

It had been a random idea but the more she thinks about it the more she realizes it's a brilliant one. She wants to do it and she wants Bonnie to want to do it too.

Caroline's familiar with Bonnie's caving face and she bounces in her seat when it becomes obvious that she's onboard. "Awesome. You have exactly two hours to pack your stuff up and tell anyone you need to that we're out of here. I will pick you up."

"Two hours? Shouldn't we wait until the morning?"

"Nope!" Caroline chirps, standing up. "Thinking leads to doubts and doubts are not allowed. We're doing this. Pack something cute enough for a club because we are so going to one in an actual city no matter how many people I have to compel."

Bonnie looks like she wants to argue but Caroline's not budging. They were young, and hot, and they were going to dance with cute boys and accept free drinks, damn it. Finally Bonnie sighs, "Alright, fine Caroline. You win."

"I'm going to pretend that's not resignation in your tone, Bon. This is going to be _awesome_. Just you wait."

* * *

Caroline had been right – at least at first. They'd hit up some outlet malls, got themselves some fabulous new clothes to start college in. Found a fair in Tennessee and had a great time on the rides and inhaling fried foods. They even went to The Smithsonian, got a little education in with all their fun.

And yep, clubbing definitely happened, cute boys and all.

Unfortunately, trouble found them. Really, Caroline probably should have expected it. It had been _years_ since she'd lived a bump free life. And of course it couldn't just be regular trouble. It had to be life and death and magical danger trouble.

Freaking witches. Such a pain.

Bonnie Bennett excluded, obviously.

Caroline thought it was pure bullshit that being a vampire made her a target. It's not like she'd _asked_ to be smothered and turned. She was just trying to deal with the life she had now and she was doing a pretty damn good job if she did say so herself. She could have gotten all casual about murder now that she had to drink blood to live but she _hadn't_. She controlled herself, didn't hurt anyone who hadn't tried to hurt her first. She was maybe a little liberal with the compulsion, but was using it to get into a club _really_ that bad?

Plus, exactly how was she supposed to have known that vampires weren't welcome in Jackson County, Alabama? That it was some coven's turf? It's not like there was a freaking map she could download that told her places she should avoid if she didn't want to face pain and possible death.

Bonnie had tried to reason with them but those particular witches really weren't the forgiving sorts. She and Bonnie had been minding their own business, looking for a place to eat lunch, when one of them had grabbed Caroline (in the middle of the street!) and burned some witchy symbol into her arm. She'd thrown him off, rolling her eyes when he'd spat, 'You're dead, vampire.'

Way to state the obvious, buddy.

He'd pulled out a stake, tried to go after her again, but Bonnie had tossed him back with magic.

That had led to a tedious argument about the ethics of calling vampires your friends and how apparently Bonnie was a disgrace to witch kind for choosing to hate vampires on a case by case basis.

In hindsight it had been a classic stalling tactic and Caroline had realized they were being surrounded in the nick of time. She knew Bonnie was powerful and could probably hold her own but Caroline's gut had told her to run.

She'd listened, scooped Bonnie up, and had flashed to their car, breaking all sorts of laws and getting them the hell out of the town. As the distance grew so did the pain in her arm, going from an itch to an ache to a _burn_. Caroline had gritted her teeth together and done her very best to ignore it and keep her eyes on the road while her foot pressed heavily on the gas pedal.

She'd been losing the battle, her vision starting to blur, when her phone had rung. Bonnie, who had mostly been quiet – her initial exclamations met with terse answers as Caroline focused on fleeing – released her death grip on the center console to check who was calling. "Klaus?" she'd burst out, after a shocked pause. "Why is _Klaus_ calling you?"

Caroline hadn't had the faintest clue, felt her own burst of surprise and confusion. They'd had no contact since her graduation night, where she'd consented to let him buy her a drink (which fine, had turned into a bottle of champagne) since he had a couple hours to kill before his flight back to New Orleans was set to depart.

She'd kept quiet about the hours they'd spent talking, the promise he'd made, only telling her friends that Klaus had set Tyler free. That no, he hadn't asked for anything in return, hadn't even _mentioned_ Elena. They'd grudgingly accepted her words, though Damon had seemed reluctant.

Because apparently _everything_ was about Elena.

Bonnie had been impatiently waiting for an answer while Caroline tried to figure out what to say. When she felt her arms start to shake, noticed that her grip on the wheel was slippery because her palms were sweat soaked, she decided not to question Klaus timing. "I don't know and right now I don't care. Answer it. New Orleans is a lot closer than Mystic Falls and I'm thinking we're going to need a cavalry here."

A few muttered words about how she didn't want to talk to Klaus _ever_ had been said but Bonnie had accepted the call. "What do _you_ want?" she'd bitten out suspiciously.

"Pleasure to speak to you as well, witch. I here you've gotten yourselves into a bit of a mess. Take the next exit. Stop at the first gas station. Help will be right behind you."

He'd hung up after rattling off the instructions, and Bonnie had been left gaping at the phone.

Caroline had checked her rear view mirror, prepared to shift the car into the correct lane. "You're just going to do what he says?" Bonnie had asked, her disbelief clear. "No questions asked?"

Caroline had managed a laugh, dry and pained. "Yeah, I am. I am about ready to bite of my own arm because it hurts _that_ much. We could drive to Mystic Falls but Damon's pretty much our only backup and I'd bet my first year's tuition that he'd high tail it out of town with Elena and hang me out to dry if he got wind of the pack of vampire hating witches that was coming. I have no idea how Klaus knew what happened, and trust me, I _will_ find out and be super pissed about it later. But for now? Right now I trust him to help us."

"_I_ don't trust him."

Caroline had sighed, "And I get that. I'm not asking you to. Just trust _me_, Bonnie. Do you really think I would put you in danger?"

She'd grudgingly admitted that Caroline wouldn't and had settled back into her seat with an expression of suspicious distaste on her face.

Whatever, Caroline knew she could deal with a mood. She couldn't deal with either of them being dead.

She'd found the indicated gas station easily enough and an SUV – _very_ similar to the kind Klaus had favored - pulled in after them a couple minutes later. Two men and a woman had climbed out and Caroline had instantly knows that they weren't human. They didn't move like it and she'd been wary, her fangs close to dropping. One of the men stayed with the SUV while one had entered the little convenience store attached to the gas station. The woman had approached, her hands plainly visible and expression open and pleasant, "Klaus sent us," she'd told them. "We're here to help you. We're going to take you to New Orleans and get that mark taken care of."

Caroline had caught Bonnie's eye. "I really don't like this, Caroline," Bonnie had said.

Not a surprise. Caroline had known arguing was pointless so she'd climbed out of the car, winced at the complaining Bonnie was doing under her breath as she followed suit.

She'd hugged her arm close to her body, offered a wan smile, "Well, take me to your leader, I guess."

* * *

They had.

The one man had exited the store with a cooler and two bags of ice, and the slight relief it had offered to her arm had been welcome on the short plane ride. Caroline had quickly ascertained that they were hybrids, wondered if there was any way she could convince Bonnie to keep that info to herself. They'd been working under the assumption that Tyler, and the twelve Klaus had slaughtered for trying to betray him had been all of them. Caroline now realized that was stupid – Klaus wasn't they type to do things by half measures, to _not_ have a backup plan.

Caroline could only imagine the paranoia that she'd have to endure once Damon got wind that some still lived. Maybe she'd tell Tyler someday – he might like to know he wasn't the only one out there once the pain that would come with the reminder of the friends he'd lost was less sharp.

She had no idea how she was going to explain this trip to New Orleans once Tyler returned to Mystic Falls. Hopefully he'd recognize that the situation had been beyond Caroline's control, and his desire to have her alive and kicking would override his hatred of Klaus.

Hopefully.

Klaus had yet to make an appearance in the flesh. They'd been escorted to an opulent home in The French Quarter and even Bonnie's eyes had widened as they'd looked around, eager to take everything in. A witch named Sophie had appeared in the study they'd been shown to, had asked to see Caroline's arm. She'd examined it carefully, asked a few questions. Soon enough she and Bonnie were bent over a pile of grimoires, talking spells and curses, leaving Caroline to pace the room and suck down the provided blood bags.

Time got kind of fuzzy then but it had only taken them an hour or two of uninterrupted research time before they'd had a plan, and Sophie had called one of the hybrids in. He'd taken the list of things the witches needed for their spell and left without a word. Everything on it was quickly produced and soon, with a little chanting and some gross concoction dripped over her brand, Caroline had been mark free.

The efficiency was almost impressive. Caroline would have appreciated it more if she hadn't worked out the obvious - Klaus had clearly been _stalking_ her. And yeah, it had been helpful _this time_. The complete lack of respect for _boundaries_ was still infuriating.

Sophie had invited Bonnie to her restaurant, (had sheepishly apologized to Caroline, explained that vampires weren't exactly welcome in certain places in New Orleans at the moment). She'd said something about other witches who'd love to meet Bonnie, had offered to explain more about the ancestral magic they practiced. Caroline had seen how intrigued Bonnie had been even if she'd been reluctant to leave Caroline.

Caroline had been having none of that. She'd pasted on a smile and insisted that Bonnie go ahead. She had so little opportunity to learn about magic, relied on instinct and raw power (which got her in trouble sometimes – see The Expression incident). Caroline figured encouraging Bonnie to go hang with other witches would be good for her and would maybe soften her up a little.

They were totally still going to have words about the Klaus thing - Caroline's willingness to trust him. Caroline would take any advantage she could get in preparing for _that_ conversation.

She'd continued to pace after Bonnie and Sophie had left though she switched out the blood for some bourbon from the fancy liquor cart that sat in the corner knowing Klaus would show up eventually.

She hadn't had to wait long.

She feels him first, recognizes the faint displacement of air that happens when someone moves at abnormal speed. His eyes are on her. She'd always been able to feel that too.

Caroline keeps her back to him, sips her drink, uses her harshest tone, "Sure you don't want to creep outside the window? I'm pretty sure that's the correct stalker M.O."

She hears the clink of glass against crystal, knows he's following her example. Klaus doesn't seem to mind her ire, his reply holds an edge of teasing, "Ah. I had hoped for a little gratitude for my timely assistance, but…"

Oh, he _did not_. "Gratitude?" Caroline spits out, whirling. "You have _got_ to be kidding me. How long have you had your minions watching me?"

"Since I left Mystic Falls."

"After graduation?"

"Before," he informs her calmly. He takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, crosses one ankle over his opposite knee. The relaxed posture makes her blood boil and Caroline sets down her glass before she breaks it. Or throws it. He still reads her far too well, anticipates the demand she'd been about to make. "And my… associates will continue to be on hand."

Caroline shakes her head. "No. Absolutely _not_."

He attempts to placate her, his expression remaining calm, and Caroline recognizes that he probably doesn't bother with such things very often. "They will not interfere in your life, sweetheart. You'll not even know they're there. Indeed, you had no idea, correct?"

"That doesn't make it okay!" Caroline seethes. "Why would you even…"

"I have enemies," Klaus begins.

She can't stop the snort, "Oh, what a _shocking_ surprise. You? But you're so _snuggly_."

He ignores her sarcasm, though the slight grimace Caroline detects at her wording sends a small wave of satisfaction through her. "Enemies," he continues, "that have become emboldened by Mikael's death. They were relying on him to eliminate me, you see. But as I've prevailed there are many who are plotting to make my death a reality."

"Um, what does that have to do with me?"

She knows she's playing dumb but it's the only thing she can think to do. Caroline's put a great deal of mental effort into not considering the depths of Klaus' feelings for her – the possibility that they were big and permanent.

Caroline wasn't even sure she could grasp Klaus' version of permanence, the years and decades and _centuries_ in spanned. She wasn't even _nineteen_.

Thankfully, he keeps it matter of fact. "I have no way of knowing if our… friendship is known to anyone who wishes me harm. I do know that several of those who loathe me would not hesitate to hurt you if they thought it would hurt me."

Suddenly, all Caroline feels is tired. "I am so _sick_ of being collateral damage."

Klaus' bravado softens, "I know. And I will do my best to endeavor that you will never be such a thing again." It's a vow, his eyes as determined and solemn as she'd ever seen them.

Damn it now she's softening. She hated that she could see his point. But Caroline had no desire to be tortured especially by some old ass vampire who probably had a lot of practice. Klaus' attention couldn't be taken back at this point so she needs to make this something she can deal with. "I want to meet them," she demands. "And I want to know exactly what they're telling you."

Klaus smiles though he's smart enough to keep any pleasure at his win off his face, "Would you like me to compel them not to lie to you before you interrogate them?"

Did it make her a terrible person if she said yes?

Caroline does it anyway. "I do. Lending a hand when some nutty witches try to kill me is one thing. Reporting my every move, telling you what I wore, or who I talked to, is another thing entirely. I want a _normal_ college experience."

Klaus nods, "Believe it or not, Caroline, I want that for you too. It's important to you. I understand that. I assume you'd also like to meet those I have stationed near your mother?"

Caroline blinks, shocked. "Wait, my _mother_ gets a hybrid protection detail?"

He appears almost offended, "Obviously. You'd hurl yourself into danger in an instant for her. It's only expedient to ensure you won't have to."

Trust Klaus to frame it as a matter of strategy. "Oh. Well, thanks. For that, I guess."

Klaus smirks, and the teeny bit of warmth that had brewed is mostly evaporated. "Now, was that so difficult?"

"Shut up," Caroline grouses, crossing her arms.

"Sorry," Klaus apologizes though his amusement ruins the pretense of sincerity.

"I reserve the right to revise my list of demands at any point," Caroline declares, narrowing her eyes at him threateningly.

"I would expect nothing else," Klaus says approvingly. "Now, I'm afraid you'll be stuck in the house until you leave, my dealings are a bit… unsettled at the moment. As we've just discussed the importance of keeping a target _off_ your back I'm sure you understand. Would you like to order some food, perhaps? New Orleans has many things I'm sure you'd like. Or I can show you to a guest room if you'd like to call it a night. I'll have a car ready for first thing tomorrow."

Caroline bites her lip, hesitating. She's not sure if it's wise, sharing a meal, a _conversation_, with Klaus. He has a way of making her enjoy his company even when she knows she shouldn't. He's waiting patiently for her answer, and she's grateful he doesn't try to rush her.

In the end, Klaus giving her the choice is the reason she says yes. Caroline's already going to have to wade through judgement, trot out justifications. Bonnie, Damon and Elena, her mom, Tyler. They're all going to have opinions.

She figures she might as well actually _do_ something to earn the coming censure. Enjoying some great sure to be food was just an added bonus.

**Turn the Heavens Down**

**(Prompt: End of S5 before the Other Side is gone, Caroline dies and they call Klaus to help get her back. "OMG I/YOU DIED AND NOW THAT I HAVE YOU BACK WE'RE NOT WASTING ANOTHER MINUTE IN THIS BUMFUCK TOWN" smut ensues. Title from "Legacy" by Fefe Dobson. SMUT).**

Watching Stefan pace the length of the room was starting to get old. "We need to start," Liv says. _Again_.

As expected, Stefan shakes his head. He doesn't even bother to look at her.

Her hand clenches, pressing into the wood of the table. "Look, whoever you're waiting for isn't _coming_. I need to start the spell."

Stefan's pacing continues without pause. They've been having a variation of this conversation for hours, and it never goes any differently. Liv doesn't care. She needs to try _something_. She forces her voice to remain even, "We're talking about _my brother_ here."

"Mine too. And Elena. Caroline. Tyler. We need this to _work_. He'll be here."

Liv still wasn't exactly clear who _he_ was. Only that he was powerful enough for her to channel, that he'd give her enough juice to get everyone they loved out of The Other Side before it collapsed. Stefan had made the call hours ago, had a short, terse conversation. She'd only made out bits of it but Stefan had obviously been desperate. Asking for assistance had seemed to grate and he'd looked sick and resigned as he'd done it.

The door creaks and Liv glances up, startles at seeing a man in the doorway though she hadn't heard anyone approach. She'd been expecting a witch, someone older. This man is _not_ a witch. There's something about him that makes her leery, even though she can't pinpoint _what_ it is. He doesn't look threatening but the way he holds himself, how his eyes take in _everything_, makes her think it might be smart to tread carefully.

"Of course I will, Ripper," he drawls. "As I promised. Where's the witch?"

It's a rhetorical question, his eyes fall on her immediately. Hard and measuring, he takes several disarmingly graceful steps in her direction and she lifts her chin and meets his gaze. "Ah, there she is," he says softly. "Liv Parker, I'm told. I know of your surname. Gemini Coven? An interesting pedigree."

Liv stiffens, alarm trickling in. No one was supposed to _know_ that.

His head tips to the side, eyes both knowing and coldly amused, "Does she have a twin, Ripper?"

Liv swallows down her shout of denial. It's pointless, Stefan's already answering. "Yeah. Luke. He's on The Other Side. Caroline snapped his neck so Liv would do the spell."

The man smiles, "Clever girl," he murmurs, genuine fondness flitting across his face. She almost jumps as he leans forward abruptly, planting his hands on the table, all traces of softness gone. "Have you ever heard of The Originals?"

Oh shit.

Liv nods, swallows hard. She and Like had been raised on stories of them like she imagined most kids who grew up in covens were. "Of course."

"Marvelous. My name is Klaus," he pauses, to let her absorb, and Liv gets why. She casts an incredulous glance in Stefan's direction, only to see him looking pained, while studiously avoiding her eyes. Did he _know_ who he was screwing with?

"Look at me, witch," Klaus murmurs softly. It might sound like a request but Liv knew an order when she heard it. "The Ripper got me here, but you and I have business before we begin."

"What? _Klaus._"

His arm slices through the air, cutting off the protest Stefan had begun. "I've agreed to let you channel me. In return you guarantee my brother comes through. His name is Kol. I expect he'll be waiting for you, he's always had a knack for landing on his feet. Caroline as well. Everyone else? Well, I honestly don't much care which side they end up on."

"My brother ends up _here_," Liv insists. It's not a point she's willing to budge on.

His head dips, the barest concession. "Very well. Family loyalty is something I understand. Know that if you fail, however, there will be consequences."

"Really?" Liv asks, "You're threatening me _now_?"

"Klaus does that," Stefan mutters. "Not really great at reading cues."

They both ignore him. "If you succeed, I can be _very_ generous. Perhaps lend a hand one day? You can't run forever, can you? Your coven will come knocking sooner or later. You'll find I can be an excellent ally to those I deem worth it."

Liv considers it. He might be the worst kind of vampire but if her family came around there were few lengths she wouldn't go to prevent them from pitting her and Luke against one another. If that happened, being owed a favor by someone with the kind of reach that Klaus Mikaelson was said to have, would come in handy. "My brother," Liv states. "Your brother. Caroline."

Klaus beams like she's a puppy who'd just done a particularly difficult trick, "Exactly."

"I can do that."

"Liv," Stefan says, sounding agonized.

"I'll get whoever else I can," she allows. "But I'm not willing to die for your friends, Stefan."

Klaus snorts. "I should hope not. Trust me, they're _really_ not worth it." He pushes up his sleeves, offering her his hand. "Shall we begin?"

Liv takes his hand, half expects it to be ice cold. Maybe scaly. Pure evil should feel differently, shouldn't it? But it's warm. Strong. Without a hint of the shakiness that she feels thrumming through her. She tightens her grip and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. She uses her magic to reach out for him, trying to gauge how much of his energy she can take. Let's out a sigh of relief when she feels his power wash over her. There's a lot of it. Stefan hadn't lied, she _can_ use him.

This will work. She can get Luke back.

With one final shaky inhalation Liv begins to chant.

* * *

Caroline's relief at _not_ being dead is sadly short lived.

She takes Bonnie's hand when urged, stumbles back into the real world, Luke and Kol Mikaelson of all people hot on her heels. She's shocked to see Klaus, pauses as his eyes burn into hers. They track over her body methodically as if he's assuring himself that she's safe and whole. He nods, eyes flitting to his brother.

"Nik!" Kol exclaims. "Thanks ever so much for the rescue. Took you long enough."

Klaus looks strained and a little pale, but his eyes still roll upwards like he's searching for patience. "Finn?" he asks, voice thin.

Kol sobers, if only minutely. "He didn't want to make the return trip."

She misses Klaus' reaction. Stefan grabs her arms, pulling her roughly around to face him. "Where's Damon?" he demands. "Elena? Tell me they were _with you_, Caroline."

Apparently a, 'Good to see you alive, Care!' was too much to ask for.

She shoves her annoyance aside, "I saw them. Just a minute ago, Kol was…"

"Hustling your sweet little arse to our rescue? You're welcome, darling."

Yeah, honestly she'd been a little confused about that. Kol had taken both she and Luke in hand, had practically dragged them through the forest on The Other Side to where Bonnie was. Not that she wasn't grateful but she'd never even _spoken_ to him before.

"Liv, you've gotta stop," she hears Luke urge, sounding alarmed. "It's too much."

"Our bargain is complete," Klaus adds. He's beginning to sway on his feet and Caroline notes that Liv is holding his hand. It's an odd image and Caroline's mind races, making connections. Was she using Klaus? To pull everyone from The Other Side? How had that even _happened_?

Stefan releases her, pushes her aside before stalking over to Liv, "No, Liv. You _can't_."

Glancing around the room Caroline realizes that several people have followed her. Alaric's here, and Tyler. Enzo. Lexi too though Stefan has barely noticed, pleading eyes fixed on Liv. The witch is trembling, her nose bloody, and her head shakes weakly, "I'm sorry, I…"

A light flashes, so bright Caroline instinctively turns away, her arm flying up to cover her eyes. Something heavy crashes to the stone floor and then it fades. When she turns back she only sees a pile of people and it takes her several moments to parse out individual limbs. Her heart leaps when she recognizes Elena's long dark hair, and she grins at seeing Bonnie's exhausted looking face. Damon was underneath them, having taken the brunt of the impact.

At least he was occasionally good for _something_.

Klaus yanks his hand from Liv's hold, severing their link to The Other Side. Liv collapses heavily on the table and Luke bends over her frantically. "She's alive," Klaus says. "Just spent. I can hear her heartbeat."

Silence falls, long and stunned. Everyone shifts, exchanging glances. What were they supposed to do now?

Kol's the one to break it, clapping his hands. "Well, I don't know about you all but I could _really_ use an actual drink. Too bad The Grill got blown up." He sets his eyes on Damon and Elena, shakes his head reprovingly.

Caroline snorts out a very unladylike laugh, has to clap her hand over her mouth. Everyone looks at her like they're wondering if she's lost it and it only makes her giggle harder, "Sorry," she gasps out. "I'm sorry. It's just, does anyone really believe _he's_ never blown up a building?"

It just seemed like Kol's style.

Kol looks mildly indignant but before he can reply Damon interrupts. He's climbed to his feet, and he steps in front of Elena who was busy brushing off her clothes, "Hate to break up this _weird_ bonding happening, but don't we still have other problems? Travellers taking over Mystic Falls, ring any bells? Focus, Barbie. I know you like your bad boys but save it for later, okay?"

Kol makes a face, reaches out lightning fast, and snaps Damon's neck. "I really don't like that one," he mutters.

Another silence falls, considerably less wonder filled than the last. _Much_ more hostile.

Yelling happens, and it takes several minutes (and Caroline's very shrill whistle) to bring everyone back to order.

Seriously Damon would be fine (and he totally had that coming anyway). His point stood. They had things to do and whining about a snapped neck wasn't on the list.

They compare notes. It comes out that vampires would still can't enter Mystic Falls, not if they wanted to live. Feeling bereft at the idea that her childhood home is out of her reach Caroline is dealt another blow at the revelation that Tyler was no longer a hybrid. His regular even heartbeat seems foreign and wrong when she tunes her ears to listen for it. They don't have a chance to speak as the group disperses, and Caroline has no idea what she'd even say. He pulls her in for a hug before he goes and Caroline feels awkward, too aware of how breakable he now was. Her are fingers tentative on his back, afraid to apply too much pressure. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispers gruffly, before leaving with Alaric and Bonnie.

Stefan hefts Damon over his shoulder, Elena watching fretfully. Lexi's right by his side looking like she'd never left, "You coming, Caroline? We're going to check into a motel, get someone to bring some stuff out to us tomorrow and figure out where to go from there.

They all look at her like they expect her to fall in line. Caroline hesitates, the realization that she really didn't _want_ to go with them hitting her hard. She'd be an afterthought at best, a fifth wheel at the worst, while Elena and Damon got all schmoopy and Lexi and Stefan caught up. "I… no. It's fine. I need to touch base with my mom, make sure she's okay. I'll figure something out after." She's careful not to look at Klaus, who still lingers in a corner. She knows he's listening though, can _feel_ his interest.

"Are you sure?" Stefan asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Lexi winks, "Caroline's a big girl, Stefan. She can do what she wants."

Caroline smiles, grateful that she wouldn't have to explain herself. She's too tired to even begin to figure out everything she knows she needs to. "I'll text you tomorrow," she offers.

"You'd better," Elena says firmly, going in for a hug. "We need to figure out where we're going to live until school starts."

Caroline hums, acknowledging that she'd heard but unwilling to agree to anything at the moment. The way she was feeling, the nervous energy building, was foreign and Caroline suspects that going back to classes and normalcy was going to be a hard prospect to face.

She'd died. Literally. And it had nearly been permanent. After waking up on the The Other Side Caroline had been constantly assaulted by regrets – some big and some small. She hadn't told her mother she'd loved her recently, she'd yet to master a foreign language. And save for a couple trips to visit her dad she'd never made it farther out of Mystic Falls than freaking Whitmore, for god's sake. How pathetic was that?

Her friends leave, pointedly ignoring The Originals. Understandable but still kind of rude, in Caroline's opinion, considering Klaus had shown up and saved all their asses.

Klaus waits until the footsteps fade before approaching her, slow and cautious. His hand rests on her back, drawing her attention. "My house is technically outside the town's limits," he tells her, carefully neutral, staring straight ahead. "Can I offer you a guest room? I have my phone with me. A car. You can call your mother on the way?"

Caroline doesn't even have to think about it. Klaus' house was super fancy, she'd bet he had some killer bathtubs.

After the week she'd had she figured she deserved something better than some grimy motel shower and a mattress a bajillion other people had slept in. She nods, offers a small smile and lets Klaus usher her towards the door, his palm still warm against her spine.

Kol follows, "_Finally_. I wasn't kidding about that drink. We'll need to find a human too. I'm _starving_."

* * *

Two hours later Caroline's sitting cross legged at a vanity in one of Klaus' many guest rooms, humming absently as she combs out her wet hair. Her mom had agreed to meet her at Klaus' and Caroline had spotted her, shifting awkwardly on the front steps, as soon as they'd turned up the drive. Caroline hadn't even bothered to wait for Klaus to come to a complete stop before she'd been bolting from the vehicle. They'd both cried a little and Klaus and Kol had filed passed them (she'd vaguely heard Klaus muttering darkly, assumed threats were involved in ensuring Kol's lack of commentary).

Her mom hadn't had time to linger – apparently The Traveller's celebrations tended to get rowdy and she was on duty. She'd passed Caroline a bag filled with clothes, a small cooler of blood bags. Her eyes had lingered skeptically on the house, "Are you sure you want to stay here, Caroline? I can get you a room at…"

She'd shaken her head, "No, it's fine. Everyone else is there and I just need a little space, you know? I know Klaus is… Klaus but he's kind of my friend?" Her mother's expression still read wary and Caroline had winced. She probably shouldn't have phrased that like a question. She attempted to lighten the mood, "Look at it this way, he came all this way to help bring me back from the dead, Mom. He's totally not going to kill me after going through the trouble."

"That's not funny, Caroline."

Caroline had sighed in defeat, "No, but you know me. I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable and telling your mom that you trust the bad guy with your life is really awkward."

Her mom had pulled her in for another hug and Caroline had been relieved that she seemed to be willing to try to understand. "I don't get it, and I think there are some things we need to discuss. Extensively. But I trust _you_, and if you feel safe here that's good enough for me."

Caroline had smiled, taken comfort in her mother's familiar scent. "Thanks, mom."

After her mother had left she'd let herself into Klaus' house. She hadn't quite known what to do but Klaus had immediately re-entered the front foyer. He'd taken her bags from her and nodded towards the stairs, "Come on. I'll show you where you can stay.

He'd been so relaxed, while Caroline's nerves were a jittery mess. She'd wondered if he'd somehow forgotten the last time they'd seen each other? If Klaus had she was going to be incredibly offended because he'd certainly left looking dopily satisfied and pleased. "You broke your promise," she'd blurted out on the second story landing.

He'd glanced behind him with something like annoyance flashing across his face. His reply had been clipped, "I did. Your life is more important than my word. It's rather unfortunate if that bothers you but I'm not about to apologize for it."

"No," Caroline had stuttered out. He'd taken it exactly the wrong way though maybe that made sense. "It doesn't. Actually, I should probably just say thank you before I put my foot further in my mouth."

"You're welcome," Klaus had replied before he'd fallen silent once more, resuming his steady pace. Caroline had followed him, studied the tense lines of his back like it would grant her a clue about why he was acting so cold. Eventually he'd stopped at a door, pushed it open. He'd been brusque, "Bathroom's on the left. If your mother neglected to pack you everything you need let me know and I'll see what I can find. Goodnight, Caroline."

He'd brushed passed her then, had been gone before she could ask him what _the hell_ his problem was. Irritated, she'd stomped in to the room, resolved to get a quality bath in before she put her mind to figuring out what had crawled up Klaus' ass.

She braids her hair, and nods to herself, before slipping on a hoodie and padding out of the room. She heads downstairs, hearing footsteps, her head tipped to the side as she listens carefully. Unfortunately, it's not the Mikaelson she'd been looking for lurking in the living room. Kol glances up and smirks, "Aren't you adorable all scrubbed clean?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, leans on the bannister. He's got on boots, and a jacket, "Where are you going?"

"Out. I'm alive and I mean to enjoy it." He holds up a set of car keys, "I do hope I remember how to drive."

Caroline shakes her head. At least it's late, the roads should be pretty deserted. Plus, it's not like a wreck will do much damage to _him_. "Good luck. Where's Klaus?"

She half expects Kol to mock her but he must be in a hurry. He coughs up Klaus' location easily. "His room, third floor. And keep your luck, darling," he tells her, brows wiggling suggestively, "I suspect you'll need it more than I."

He's gone before she can ask him what he'd meant. "Ugh, I hate cryptic," Caroline grouses, turning and heading back up the stairs.

There's one door ajar when she gets to the third floor and Caroline tiptoes closer. "Something you needed?" Klaus calls, and Caroline takes that as an invitation. He's sprawled on his ginormous bed, shirtless and engrossed in a book. Caroline tries really hard not to ogle. And succeeds. Mostly.

Her restraint is wasted because he's not even looking at her, waiting with an air of impatience. Caroline's anger, soothed by her luxurious soak, roars back to life. Klaus has a knack for breaking through her careful control and she stalks forward, slapping the book out of his hands. "What is your problem? You have no reason to be pissed at me. I didn't _ask_ you to interrupt your perfect life in New Orleans, did I? I'm sorry my death was _such_ an imposition. I _said_ thank you. Why are you acting like this? What happened to _friends_?"

Klaus moves quickly, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Caroline doesn't have time to stumble back before he's vertical, his hands firmly banded around her biceps. "Your life," he hisses out, "your plans. All the things you wanted to do? Did any of them include dying for _your_ worthless friends? Because that's precisely what happened, Caroline."

She blinks, shocked at the depth of his rage. His eyes are blazing, yellow bleeding in and his muscles are taut with tension. "They helped me," she defends herself weakly.

Klaus makes a derisive noise, "Oh, please. Without my assistance that witch wouldn't have had the power to get more than a few people out. Do you _really_ think you'd have made the list they were writing?"

"I know Liv would have happily left me to rot because of what I did to Luke, but Stefan…"

"The Ripper's priorities are as they've always been. His brother, the doppelganger. He only bothered to tell me of your demise when I had no interest in helping him save _them_. Then he used your name to get me here. So tell me, love. Are they really worth your _life_?"

The news hurts but the pain is brief. If she really thought about it she wouldn't have expected anything different. She meets his gaze, "No," Caroline says firmly.

Klaus' eyes widen and she gets a small thrill at the open look of shock he wears for a moment. "No?" he repeats sounding more mystified than someone who proclaims himself the most powerful being on the planet _should_.

She shakes her arms, looking at him pointedly. His hands fall but Caroline makes no move to widen the distance between them. She'd decided some things in the bath, used the quiet to gather her thoughts and figure out what she _wants_.

"If I was human, a life or death experience would make me realize how _short_ life is. But I'm not. I'm not limited to eighty years, so why am I pretending like I am? Why am I acting like college, and grad school, and a job, some miserable grind, is all that I can have?"

Klaus lips curl, "I admit I've wondered the same things. You are so much more than that town, Caroline."

Yeah, she didn't come here for 'I told you so's.'

She shoves him, taking him by surprise. Only for a moment. Klaus' reflexes are better than hers so when they hit the bed she's pressed underneath the lean length of him. Not what she'd been aiming for, but Caroline can work with it. She hitches leg over his hips, executes a slow roll as she idly scrapes her nails down the bare length of his spine. Klaus' lashes flutter and he rocks into her, his hand threading into her hair.

"I'm going to leave," Caroline tells him, wanting there to be no confusion. "My mom's about as safe as she can be if vampires can't enter Mystic Falls. She won't get it but that's okay. She doesn't have to."

"And where will you go?" Klaus murmurs, his head dipping. His lips land on her jaw, trace a slow path down her throat. He tugs gently on her hair and Caroline shivers, tipping her head back to give him more room. He's so _good_ at this. Klaus levers himself up, a hand tugging down the zipper of the hoodie. Achingly _slowly_. She can deal, because he's made no move to stop the motions of her hips, the lazy grind they've kept up, and she's just about found the perfect spot. Caroline moans once she finds friction against her clit, widening her thighs so Klaus lays more heavily between them. He kisses the swell of her breasts, once he's done with her sweatshirt, slips his hand under her tank. It stills, hot on her belly, and Caroline squirms, attempting to encourage him to move. Up or down she doesn't quite care. His huff of laughter slides over her skin and her nipples tighten within the confines of her bra. "Caroline," he teases. "I asked you a question."

It takes some effort to make her brain fire with his fingertips just teasing the bottom of her bra. "I don't know. I'll have to make a plan. _Tomorrow_."

Klaus takes the hint. Sort of. He tugs the cup of her bra town, teases her nipple with calloused fingers. "I could offer suggestions?"

Caroline shakes her head, "Nope. This is my trip. I'm going to do it my way. I'll call you when I'm ready for recs."

He stills momentarily and Caroline's arching up, a whine of protest falling from her. Her eyes widen when she realizes what she'd said. She cups his jaw, tugging his mouth down to hers, "Don't ruin it," she tells him, sliding her lips over his. "We'll talk tomorrow," she takes his lower one between her teeth and bites playfully, before rolling her tongue into his mouth.

Klaus is apparently onboard, his thumb flicking over her nipple as he meets her kisses expertly. Caroline lets her hands wander, slides them down his back and into his sweatpants. She's not at all disappointed to find there's nothing under them. He pulls back before she can begin to work them off, standing and tugging her up against him swiftly. Caroline clutches his shoulders to catch her balance. She raises an eyebrow in question. "On the bed, love," he instructs. "Properly. I'd like to take advantage of it."

She glances over her shoulder, "Thought of me in this particular bed often, have you?"

He doesn't deny it, slipping her sweatshirt down and discarding it. Caroline peels off her own tank top and their fingers tangle on the tie to her pajama pants. She turns, and Klaus presses himself to her back, kissing her shoulder as he unclasps her bra. One hand rests on her stomach, tracing the waistband of her panties. "Later I'll bend you over it," he promises gruffly and Caroline finds she's not opposed.

She's about to shoot something appropriately sassy back – that was totally one of their things – but Klaus' hand slips lower and he's no longer teasing. He parts her folds, lets out a groan of approval as he traces her entrance, finding her wet. She reaches back to clutch at his neck as he strokes over her clit, breaths beginning to come faster. He uses one finger, traces _perfect_ circles, until her legs are trembling and her abs are pulled tight.

When he pulls back she wants to shout out a protest. Caroline's nails dig in, drawing blood. Klaus shudders against her. "Bed," he grits out.

Caroline falls forward, reaching for the pile of pillows and tossing them aside. He helps her turn, and her panties get torn. Caroline can't bring herself to protest because his mouth dives between her legs once she's flat on her back. She grabs the sheets, writhes as he licks her slowly. He's avoiding her clit, barely glancing against it. She moves against his mouth, trying to force him where she needs him but Klaus holds her down. She groans, frustrated. "Klaus," she pleads, "come _on_. I need _more_."

She's shocked that he listens, slipping two fingers inside of her as his tongue begins to tease her clit, rapid flicks that leave her thighs trembling. She'd been so close before, the build is quick, her orgasm crashing over her when Klaus sucks her clit into his mouth.

She's pretty sure she screams his name though she's not entirely sure, riding the waves of pleasure as she shakes against his tongue.

Caroline's panting when the last tremor leaves her, glances down to find Klaus working his way up her body. He nips at her belly button, strokes along her rib cage. A new tendril of arousal winds around her when his lips rub over the tight peak of her nipple while a hand pinches the other. Caroline moans, her eyes squeezing shut. "Okay," she manages, "bed has definite perks."

Klaus smiles, slipping to the side. He tugs her leg up, hooks it over his hip. "I am inclined to agree."

Caroline plucks at his waistband. "Take these off. Now."

His eyes heat and together they make short work of his pants, until they're forgotten somewhere at the end of the bed. Caroline pushes and Klaus rolls, his hands settling on her hips as she sits up. They don't linger long, sliding up her torso to toy with her breasts. "Yeah, the bed's good but we have all night. I'm willing to bet you claimed the best bathroom." She reaches behind her, watches his face as she wraps her hand around his cock.

His slightly ragged inhale is his only reaction. Caroline tightens her grip, begins to stroke. "That might be true." Klaus admits, voice tight. His abs have turned rock hard under her and Caroline grinds against him, mouth falling open at the pleasure it sends racing through her. His control is fraying, and it's a heady feeling to be the cause of it. "I'd be happy to show you," Klaus grits out. "_Later_."

"I don't know," Caroline drawls, lifting up onto her knees tauntingly, like she's actually going to go investigate.

And that's it, Klaus has reached his limit. Caroline finds herself rolled underneath him once more, her exhilarated laugh dying as he pushes her thighs wide and slides inside of her. She's barely adjusted when he pulls back and Caroline whimpers out a protest, clenching down around his cock.

He buries his face in her shoulder, one arm burrowing under her hips to pull her roughly into his next thrust. She moans at the perfect angle, the drag of his cock hitting all of her sensitive spots. She feels her vision sharpen, her fangs drop. Klaus', "Much later," is a growl, muffled by her skin.

Caroline's not about to argue.


	61. klarolineauweek3 AU: Tropes

**Notes: **For the final day of klarolineauweek AU: Tropes. This is a Harry Potter AU that features 'sharing a bed because reasons.'

**Stick the Landing**

**(Prompt: kc + "We're hiking and we get stuck in a downpour and wow it is freezing and why didn't we pack raincoats, and oh no, we need to share a sleeping bag now to regain some body warmth" AU. Rated T).**

There's no answer to her first knock but Caroline isn't about to give up. She takes a deep breath (not exactly calming in her current agitated state but she was _trying_) and grasps the brass knocker once more. She puts a little more force into her pounding, the sound echoing throughout the clearing Klaus Mikaelsons house is situated in.

She _would not_ be ignored.

She hadn't been surprised to find out that Klaus lived on a remote piece of land. It was bordered by forests, no other houses anywhere in sight. She barely knows him, only vaguely remembers him from Hogwarts. They'd been in the same house but Klaus had been four years older and hadn't ever even glanced at her as far as she recalls. And Caroline had garnered _plenty_ of attention as a bubbly American half-blood surrounded by cool and calculating Slytherins. More than one person had whispered that the sorting hat was faulty but Caroline hadn't minded. Being underestimated had worked to her advantage. Klaus had kept to himself even back then. When he'd deigned to be seen in the common room he'd staked out a prime cluster of seating near the fireplace and had glowered if anyone but a select few dared to approach him. Judging by his house his preference for solitude remained intact.

Still, she remembers seeing the occasional glimpse that suggested Klaus wasn't as cold as he appeared. Caroline had shared a dorm room with his sister and she and Rebekah hadn't really gotten along. Sniping, petty fights and frosty silences had often reigned supreme in their room and they'd only just begun to manage the occasional civil conversation _now_, six years post-graduation, when they ran into each other in Diagonally. The few times she can recall Klaus softening, actually _smiling_, had been when Rebekah had bounded over to show him an assignment she'd aced.

He clearly had a heart buried underneath all the gruffness. Somewhere. She's hoping she can appeal to it and her requests will be heeded.

Caroline's just about to go for the knocker again when she hears footsteps approaching the door.

_Finally_. Caroline straightens and smooths her royal blue work robes, wishing that her hair were neater. She always started the day with it pulled back but her curls often began to escape by the time afternoon tea rolled around. Something Klaus had noted, her hair always springing wildly from her head in his drawings.

She pastes a facsimile of a polite smile on her face – planning to state her business nicely, at least at first – but it quickly drops when she sees who opens the door. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asks.

Kol Mikaelson grins, unoffended. Not that she's surprised. Bonnie works for Kol's potions start up and from the stories Caroline's heard their working relationship is _far_ from harmonious. She knows Bonnie's temper and imagines that Kol must be able to weather a good amount of sass if he hasn't fired her. Kol crosses his arms and leans against the door. "There was a bit of an accident in my home lab. I thought it best to clear out for a few days. I'm far to pretty to be taken down so early by deadly fumes. _I_ have far more reason to be here than _you_ do, darling. I wasn't aware that you were acquainted with Niklaus."

"I'm not. I just need to speak with him about his stupid cartoons."

Kol's grin widens. "Ah. Yes, you've been popping up in them quite a bit, haven't you?"

"I have no idea why," Caroline sniffs. "And it needs to stop. It's distracting. We're trying to roll out some important policies and he's _not_ helping."

"As much as I would love to bear witness to what will surely be an entertaining conversation I'm afraid Nik's not here."

Caroline grits her teeth and tries not to let her annoyance show. Getting his address had been a hassle (and had required bending rules and calling on certain Ministry connections). "Will he be back soon?" she asks sweetly.

"Who knows? He's on assignment. You could leave a message, or…"

She's not sure she trusts the glint in Kol's eye. It seems… anticipatory and that could mean bad things. For her. "Or…" she prods.

"I happen to know his location. I could send you there? I'm supposed to drop some extra supplies to him tomorrow. If you'd like to handle that particular chore I wouldn't object. You deal with your business and since I'm right in the middle of a break through it's a win-win."

She only hesitates a moment. Klaus's political cartoons ran in the Friday and Tuesday editions of The Prophet. She'd seethed all day at work after seeing this morning's edition. It had been the final straw and she'd begun plotting over her morning coffee. With any luck she could convince Klaus to _not_ have her prominently featured in whatever he had planned for this coming Tuesday. She'd dwell all weekend if she didn't get this cleared up and she had plans for some quality relaxation. Caroline was in charge of PR and she did her best to remain behind the scenes. She wanted the Minister, the changes he wanted to make (long overdue, in Caroline's opinion), to take center stage. If she took Kol's offer she and Klaus could hash things out and she could apparate home and be parked in front of the television with a bottle of wine in under an hour.

She sighs, hoping she won't come to regret this. "Fine, hand it over."

Kol beams, "Splendid." He disappears for a moment, returns with cracked terra cotta pot and a backpack. He hands the backpack to her and Caroline slips it on. Kol fishes his wand out of his pocket and steps out of the house. He sets the pot on the porch railing and taps it with his wand. "Portus," he intones. The pot glows blue for several seconds before it fades, and Kol turns to her expectantly. "Here's your ride. Do have a good time. Tell Nik that I've managed not to burn the place down yet. He was _most_ concerned."

Caroline raises an eyebrow, "Did you have authorization to create that portkey?"

"What do you think?"

"You realize I _work_ for The Ministry? I directly report to _The Minister_?"

Kol shrugs, "Ah, but I'd bet you're Slytherin enough to look the other way when things benefit you. And I'll return the favor and not inquire into the means you used to get Nik's address."

Ugh. He kind of had her there.

Caroline pulls her wand out of her sleeve holster. She reaches for the portkey, "Deal. Thanks for your help, Kol."

He grins, looking alarmingly gleeful, "Don't thank me, darling. The pleasure is _all_ mine."

A note of dread creeps in as she takes in his expression but Caroline's already touching the portkey, the familiar hooking feeling taking over. She closes her eyes and waits for it to be over, desperately hoping that she was being dramatic and that Kol's words _wouldn't_ prove ominous.

* * *

She stumbles when she reaches her destination and the first thing that bleeds through her disorientation is that it's really freaking cold. And wet, rain falling in a thick sheet. The second thing is a shout containing a healthy dose of panic it, "Get down!"

Caroline listens instinctively, glancing around wildly before she dives behind a nearby grouping of boulders. She grimaces, having landed in a pile of slush, but she quickly forgets her discomfort when she feels a blast of heat. The air around her turns humid for a moment and it's actually a relief from the frigid air. Caroline peeks over the top of the rocks warily when it fades her eyes widening when she spots a dragon less than ten feet away.

It's silvery blue, eyes a bright yellow, and Caroline has _the worst_ luck. Swedish Short Snouts were extra leery of humans and were capable of producing some of the hottest flames.

She was going to _kill_ Kol.

Assuming _she_ didn't die.

The dragon prowls from side to side, tense and agitated. It huffs in a breath and Caroline throws up a shield at exactly the right moment. She struggles to hold it under the blast of fire, longer and more intense than the last.

Yeah, this dragon was _pissed_. This wasn't a warning flame, this was an attempt to fry her extra crispy. Finally, it stops, and Caroline's heart leaps when she sees the dragon's head turning. It huffs, attention caught by a group of birds that have taken flight. Caroline marvels at how graceful it manages to be, despite its size, as it whips around. Caroline holds her breath, her heart pounding. "Nice dragon, go find something tastier," she breathes. Caroline sags against the rock at her back in relief when it pushes off the ground with a shriek, wings flapping as it gives chase.

Caroline jumps when she feels a presence at her side. She can't _see_ anyone a hand grips her arm. "Move," a voice demands, hauling her to her feet. "_Quickly_ before she comes back."

She's pulled into a thick clump of trees and along an overgrown path, "Klaus?" she asks. She _thinks_ she recognizes the voice, but she hadn't often heard it. He pauses long enough to remove the disillusionment spell and Caroline almost wishes he hadn't. As weird as it had been to be led by someone invisible Klaus looks positively _livid_, nearly shaking with it. "Where _are_ we?" she asks tentatively.

"Sweden," he clips out. "Near the Finnish border. In the middle of a dragon _hatching_ ground."

Caroline's eyes widen. "Oh," she manages weakly.

"Oh?" he parrots forcefully, dropping her arm and stepping back. "_That's_ what you have to say? "You landed right near a nest of eggs. If I'd been in a different location, or much farther out, you could have _died_, Caroline."

Caroline looks at the ground, digging her toe into the damp earth. Her cute flats are already beyond ruined and the realization of how right Klaus is begins to creep in. She shivers as the adrenaline fades and the cold begins to seep back in. She hugs her arms tightly to her chest. "Yeah, I don't really have anything else. Thanks for the assistance?" she tries hopefully, peeking up at him.

He doesn't relax, his face still a mask of anger. "_What_ are you doing here?" he demands.

"I wanted to talk to you. I stopped by your house and Kol…"

"Kol," Klaus bites out, the single word filled with contempt. "I should have known. I'll tear out his liver."

"I'm right there with you," Caroline tells him darkly. "I'll be happy to help you hide the body. Owl me. But for now I'm going to head home. Can I convince you to stop by my office once you're back in England? I need to talk to you about something."

Klaus laughs but there's little amusement in the sound. "It seems Kol's neglected to tell you some things, love. This whole area's covered by anti-apparition wards. He was supposed to portkey in tomorrow, at a time we agreed upon, and then hitch a ride outside of the prohibited zone with a couple of researchers who are leaving."

As if this whole thing just got _worse_. "Seriously? I'm _stuck_ here?"

"I'm afraid so," Klaus tells her grimly.

Her teeth begin to chatter when the wind picks up and she rubs at her arms. "Death is too good for him," she mutters. "I wish Dementors were still a thing."

Klaus sighs, turning around, "Come on. My tent's not far from here. It's spare but it will at least be warm."

Warm sounds _great_ to Caroline and she follows him eagerly. They walk in silence for several minutes and Caroline's too busy squinting through the rain that slaps at her face and trying not to concentrate on how miserably cold she is to care that it's a really awkward one. The tense set of Klaus' shoulders tells her he's still beyond pissed.

This was not going as she'd planned.

Klaus' tent is a shabby olive green thing and he holds the flap for her. She's relieved that it's nicer on the inside, though it's smaller and less opulent than most wizarding tents. One room. And one bed. "It's… homey," she tells him.

Klaus snorts, "More magic means more weight. It's just me on these assignments usually so I don't mind the lack of luxury. I don't have a shower but I can get you a towel, some dry things."

"That would be awesome," Caroline says. She feels awful knowing she's an imposition.

Klaus rummages in a small metal trunk at the foot of the bed, pulling out several items. "Can I have your bag? It's got my food supplies in it. I'll get some tea going while you change."

Caroline shrugs out of it, trades him for the pile of clothing he has in his arms. He turns and wanders over to the small camp stove, pointedly giving her his back.

Well, this is extra awkward.

Luckily Caroline's wand survived the ordeal. A quick charm and her wet, dirty clothes are swapped for the ones Klaus had provided her with. She rubs at her hair with the provided towel, wiggling her toes in the thick wool socks she wears.

Klaus remains determinedly silent, packing away the items he's pulled out of the backpack Kol had sent with Caroline. She takes a tentative step in his direction. "So… thanks. For saving my ass out there. Kol left out a lot of the details, just told me you were on assignment. I didn't imagine… this."

"Dragon's aren't especially fond of photography," he explains. "Short-Snouts least of all. It's quite lucrative given that few are jumping at the chance to spend weeks in the wilderness surrounded by giant riled up lizards."

Caroline hums, approaching the small table. She pulls out a chair and settles herself down. "Good to know, I guess."

He turns, two steaming mugs in his hand, dishes of cream and sugar levitating behind him. Caroline reaches for hers gratefully, warming her hands on the chipped porcelain. Klaus drops a teaspoon full of sugar in his, blowing on the top to cool it. "Now, what was so urgent you risked your life to seek me out?"

Maybe something good could come from this ordeal. Caroline straightens, "You cartoons. The ones in The Prophet."

Klaus raises an eyebrow, "Oh? What about them?"

"_Why_ am I in them?"

"You're the director of The Ministry's Public Relations Department, are you not? Always at the press events. Why wouldn't you be in them?" Klaus asks.

Caroline lets out a noise filled with exasperation. "Klaus, think about it. I'm American. Young, unmarried."

"Yes, I'm aware of all those things, love."

He's playing dumb and it's beginning to annoy her. Not as much as it usually would, her normal willingness to go for the jugular absent. Something that annoys her even more than Klaus' bland answers.

_Why_ hadn't she waited? It would be so much easier to activate hardass mode if they were sitting neatly in her office. Here, wearing an oversized sweater that smells like pine needles and wood smoke, a fire crackling nearby, after he'd literally saved her life, she's finding it difficult to work up any of the indignation that had led her here.

"Listen, things got better after the war. Shacklebolt was progressive and got a lot done. But the old pureblood families rallied – yours included – and the Ministers started getting moderate to conservative. We finally have one willing to make _real_ changes."

"And? I voted for him. Is that not enough?

"Yeah, and you remind the general public weekly that someone like me is on his team. I don't want that to freak anyone out. I don't want whispers that I have too much influence to start and lead to push back against the policies we're trying to enact."

"Why did you come back, Caroline? Why not stay in America? They're already taken many of the measures you're trying to make happen, have they not?"

She blinks in surprise at the subject change. "I… guess I missed it. My mom's not magical so I rarely dipped my toes into the magical world there, just when my dad visited. I tried when I moved back after Hogwarts but it didn't feel like home. I applied for an internship with The Ministry on a whim and now here I am."

Klaus nods in understanding. "I will consider your request while I make dinner. Do you have any soup preferences?"

Caroline resists the urge to argue – she did not like the word '_consider'_ at all. But she was a guest here so she might as well be polite. "Anything but mushroom is fine. Can I help?"

Klaus nods to a small cupboard, "There's some bread in there. Sticks by the fire. Would you mind doing the toasting?"

* * *

They share a surprisingly enjoyable meal. _After_ Klaus teased her mercilessly about her initial attempts at making toast over a flame that had resulted in inedible charcoal. She'd defended herself strenuously – it wasn't her fault that she hadn't been camping since she was a kid – but they'd both laughed in the end.

They'd played a round of Wizard's Chest, Klaus narrowly eking out a win. Caroline was going to be requiring a rematch sometime in the future.

They're still at the table, chess pieces packed away. Klaus has been yawning for a half hour, and Caroline's eyes are drooping. Neither of them broaches the issue of bed because then they'd have to deal with the fact that there was only one.

And it wasn't exactly huge.

If there'd been a couch Caroline gladly would have taken it but the only furniture in the tent was the table and chairs they'd been using and the double bed she was trying not to look at. She's already considered the possibility of transfiguring the dining set, but the pieces are rickety, narrow metal and thin wood. She's certain it would make an awful bed and she doesn't imagine Klaus has much in the way of extra blankets and pillows.

She scolds herself for being a chicken. They were both adults. They could survive one night of sharing a bed. Gathering her courage Caroline meets his eyes. "I'm tired. Do you mind if we go to bed?"

Wordlessly Klaus rises, gesturing towards the bed. "Ladies first."

Caroline squares her shoulders and makes her way over. She's never actually slept in a bed with a guy she wasn't sleeping with so this little trip is chock full of new experiences (she's a little upset that her first time she'd set foot in Sweden it had been kind of a disaster). "Do you snore?" she asks, trying to joke away her nerves. "Maybe talk in your sleep?"

"Not that I'm aware of, love." Klaus waits until she's settled, her head on the pillows, before he climbs in. Caroline tries not to flinch away when he brushes up against her. Klaus ignores her tenseness, using his wand to turn the lanterns down before setting it aside. His voice is low when he speaks, "What about you? Anything I should be aware of?"

Caroline knows she should probably confess her tendency to sleep snuggle – many boyfriends and _all_ of her friends have mocked her about it – but she doesn't. She'll just cross her fingers and hope that her unconscious self knows better than to cuddle up to a near stranger. She ignores the fact that she's learned a lot about Klaus in the pass few hours and that she'd been pretty open herself. They probably weren't technically strangers anymore. Still, maybe she'd be lucky? The universe totally owed her one.

"Nope!" she says brightly, rolling over onto her side. "Night, Klaus," she offers before closing her eyes.

His faint, "Goodnight, Caroline," washes over her as she begins to drift to sleep.

* * *

When she wakes, she's warm and cozy though her pillow could be a little softer. Caroline lets out a sleepy moan, reaching up to adjust it. She stills when her hand presses down on something that's definitely _not_ a pillow. Yesterday's events come flooding back – near death was memorable - and she realizes that her pillow is Klaus.

Crap.

Clearly her sleeping self had zero concept of stranger danger.

She's pressed tight to Klaus' side, arm slung across his torso as her head rests on his chest. Caroline holds her breath and glances upward, fervently hoping he's asleep.

Nope, no such luck. Damn it.

Amused blue eyes meet hers, a smirk curling lips that she _might_ have dreamt about. He seems in no hurry to move and Caroline squeaks out a, "Hi."

"Hello. Sleep well?"

She clears her throat. He wants to be casual? She can do casual. "Not bad, actually. You?"

"Very well."

"Good. I'm just going to…" Caroline gingerly presses herself upwards, doing her best not to touch him. It's not easy – their proximity and the small size of the bed working against her. She eyes him pointedly, "Do you mind?"

He folds his arm under his head, smirk growing. "Not at all."

Caroline huffs. He was going to be difficult, was he? She moves to climb over him but Klaus stops her, pulling her back down. She ends up sprawled against him and she blows her hair out of her face. "Do you mind?" she spits out, trying not to let her body react to him under her. Did he have to look so good first thing in the morning? Her hands were itching to sort out the mess of his hair.

She stills when he reaches out, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "I'll try to stop drawing you, Caroline."

Caroline narrows her eyes suspiciously, "Try? What do you mean by try?"

Calloused fingers stroke along her jaw as Klaus' expression turns contemplative. "I go to those press conferences and am generally bored out of my mind. My eyes are always drawn to you. Your face is so expressive, your nerves when your waiting for things to get going and your pleasure when they go well. I don't foresee that stopping. If anything I suspect it'll be even more difficult now that I know what a delightful bed partner you are."

Her mouth drops open at the blatant innuendo. It's easier to deal with then his quiet confession. She pokes at his chest, "Please. You _wish_ you knew how delightful I was in bed. Here's a hint: it's _plenty_."

A new interest flits across his face, a heat that hadn't been there before. His tongue slides along his lower lip and Caroline's eyes drop to follow the motion. "I wouldn't be at all opposed to learning more," Klaus says.

Caroline finds that she's not either. "Dinner," she offers. "Once you're back to civilization. I am so done with roughing it."

Klaus rolls them and Caroline finds herself pressed under his lean frame. She slides her hands up his sides unable to resist touching him now that things are going in a more… intimate direction. "I'd like that," he murmurs, bending to brush his lips over hers. She slides a hand into his hair, tugging until the kiss firms, her lips parting at the stroke of his tongue.

Things get hazy after that. Clothes get pushed aside for wandering hands, her lips end up swollen and she'll definitely have some marks to hide when she goes back to work.

It's a mad scramble to get her to the truck that'll take her out of the anti-apparition zone.

Totally worth it.


	62. Cheaters (Always) Prosper

**Notes:** Been in a bit of a writing slump lately (sad for my nanowrimo goals) so I went to my prompt list to attempt to get things moving. Hopefully it's enjoyable and feel free to let me know what you thought!

**Cheaters (Always) Prosper**

**(Prompts: "Klaroline+ Billiards + All Human + Smut or no smut." and "Could you write a drabble for #64? Thanks!" from the kink list prompts which is striptease. SMUT.)**

Caroline twirls a curl around her index finger as she collects her cash, wide eyed and utilizing her very best sweet southern girl simper, "Golly, that was a lucky shot. It's kinda silly that the one black ball is more important than all the others, isn't it?" from a pair of fellow tourists. They're also American, but from the west coast and neither had bothered to be subtle about checking her out every time she'd bent over the table. They'd both been distracted towards the end, allowing Caroline to go in for the kill, too busy trying to get her to cough up the name of the hostel she was staying at, prodding her about her plans for the evening.

She'd skillfully deflected, of course. They were cute enough, in an Abercrombie kind of way, but each reeked of eau de Axe and no way was she letting that nastiness rub into her skin. It smelled like middle school and sadness and Caroline was dubious about the cleanliness of the bathroom at her shared accommodations. She had no desire to spend a significant amount of time in the shower.

Plus, it's not like she's an amateur. Caroline's post grad school backpacking trip has been amazing, made all the more so by the occasional dinner at a world class restaurant and the odd purchase at a high end boutique that she can afford due to the hustling she does at pool tables in dive bars.

Kat was gonna be so jealous when she saw the studded Alaïa booties Caroline had picked up.

Guy #1 (who Caroline's been referring to as 'Troy' in her head because of his Zac Efron haircut) has just launched another attempt at getting her to leave with them, something about going to a club he's heard is "bomb" but he's interrupted. She feels someone at her back, a low voice near her ear, "Might I have the next game, sweetheart?"

Five days in London and the accent hasn't lost its appeal.

She's about to turn but Guy #2 reaches out to grab her arm, tugging her closer to him. Caroline digs her heels into the ground and shoots him a warning look. Unfortunately, he's not looking at her but at the guy who'd asked the question. "Sorry, man. She's gonna come with us."

Before Caroline can let out the emphatic, 'Um, no," that's brewing AccentGuy steps to her side and catches her eye. "Is she?" he asks curiously.

She awards him points for actually addressing _her_.

Caroline breaks Guy #2's hold (mentally rescinding the name she'd given him because Channing Tatum would _never_) and steps back. "Clubs aren't really my thing," she tells them, shaking her head in mock regret. "I can't dance. At all. And I'm really more of a Christian Pop kinda girl. Helps me stay pure."

A bigger pack of lies Caroline's never spoken but it seems to do the trick. Troy and RudeChanning both look crestfallen at the news that they have zero shot at getting into her pants (and bless their hearts for thinking she had standards that low) and quickly make excuses to leave.

Leaving her alone with AccentGuy. Whose name she should really learn. For accuracy's sake. The bar's pretty dead but he's definitely not the only English man in it. She'd noticed him when he'd come in, let her eyes rove over him appreciatively before she'd been distracted by her quarry. He'd been accompanied by a dark haired man in a _very_ nice suit – the kind that had 'mark with a fat wallet' written all over it. That guy's nowhere in sight but maybe AccentGuy will be good for padding her splurge fund. He's watching her now, a curl of what she thinks is amusement to his lips. "I'm Virginia," she tells him sticking her hand out for her to shake. He slides his palm into hers and she's surprised at the roughness of it. It's not unpleasant, not at all, but he just doesn't seem the type. He's definitely fit but it's the narrow hipped and lean variety, not construction worker beefy.

Well, Caroline's always liked a good puzzle.

She shakes his hand enthusiastically, and his full lips split into a genuine smile. "Klaus. And where are you from, _Virginia_?"

"Georgia," she lies smoothly. "Small town. Doubt you've ever heard of it."

"Try me. I've spent some time in the southern United States."

Hmm, there was something about the way he said it, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Almost like he was trying to call her bluff.

Caroline tosses her hair back, names the town her dad had settled in to with Steven and her step sister. The best lies were always prettied up with truth, after all. "I left for college. Don't get back much."

He nods in acceptance and then tips his head toward the pool table. "Since you've nowhere to be, how about that game?"

She flashes the collection of bills in her hand and bats her lashes flirtatiously, "Care to make it interesting? I think I'm really getting a hang of this whole pool thing."

He doesn't even blink, "Certainly. Shall we say, two hundred pounds?"

Caroline fights to keep from smiling. It's more than quadruple what her last game had netted her and she's got visions of premium seats to Wicked at The Apollo Victoria Theatre and dinner at Lime Orange dancing in her head. She glances around, "Won't your friend miss you?"

He laughs, "Elijah? No. He's my brother, actually. Had a bit of a lecture to deliver but he's headed home. Likes to be in bed by ten, that one."

She grins and folds up the cash she's already won, making a show of tucking it into her bra. Klaus' eyes flicker down but quickly return to her face. Caroline shrugs innocently. "This dress doesn't have pockets. Women's clothing is super impractical."

"Maybe. But that dress has other things going for it."

"Why Klaus," Caroline asks coyly, swaying closer and laying a hand on his chest, "have you been checking me out?"

"Perhaps," he says though he doesn't seem the least bit sorry about it. "It's difficult _not_ to look at you, Virginia."

He was a smooth talker too. Too bad she'd already decided to take his money. Most guys didn't react nearly as genially as the last two had but then she hadn't relived them of all that much. Generally a lot of puffed up indignation happened, snippiness at the fact that a girl had beaten them. Kind of made it hard to flirt afterwards. It would break her cover too.

Oh well. Maybe she'd find another hot guy at the play. One she could actually be Caroline with.

She leans over the table to start gathering up the balls. Klaus wanders over to the rack of cues. She watches with interest as his long fingers run over the options, as he hefts one and tests its weight. She feels a momentary pang of unease because he's _not_ moving like a rec player. She shakes the feeling off, sends him a sunny smile, "Do you want to break? That's the hardest part, right?"

Even if he knew his way around a table she wasn't new to this. When she'd been twelve years old Matt Donovan had sunk the eight ball and then earnestly told Caroline that it was okay, girls just sucked at games, over the pool table at Tyler Lockwood's.

She'd walked home fuming and had asked for a table of her own for Christmas. Her parents, still in guilt ridden post-divorce stage of indulging her whims so she stayed well adjusted, had one installed in the basement. Caroline had set up a practice regiment and soon she could do every trick shot she'd ever seen in a YouTube video.

She hadn't lost a game since.

* * *

Twenty-six minutes later Caroline's staring at the mostly cleared table (save for the still rolling cue ball and one of her stripes) in disbelief as Klaus leans against it, smirking at her.

She hates that she notes the necklaces peeking out from the neckline of his shirt, that she can still appreciate the way the thin cotton clings to his shoulders.

He'd _won_.

Warning bells had rung in her head when he'd lined up his first shot because of the sure way he'd gripped the cue, the perfect grace and force he'd used to break. Still, she'd remained confident though she'd breathed a little sigh of relief when he'd missed.

She should have dropped the act, sunk each ball with ruthless efficiency, but she hadn't wanted to make it obvious that she'd been swindling people. Perks of growing up with a sheriff for a mom, Caroline knew a thing or two about covering her tracks.

Such a mistake.

"Double or nothing," she blurts out, and almost slaps her hand over her mouth. Was she high? Had the Axe fumes scrambled her brain cells? She did not want to lose nearly $500 American dollars.

But if she broke…

"Double or nothing, and we make things a little more interesting."

Caroline narrows her eyes, instantly suspicious, "I am _not_ betting sexual favors."

"I don't need to win those. I'm merely asking for a few truths from you, love. For example, I know your name's not Virginia."

"Okay. That's creepy."

He rolls his eyes, points across the room at the bar, "The man who served your drink? My other brother Kol, who co-owns the bar. You showed him your I.D. Now, I suppose it's not impossible but it does seem odd that your name is Virginia. Especially given the fact that you lied about where you're from. He refused to disclose your name, however."

"Maybe I live in Virginia now," Caroline mutters, hating that she sounds petulant. She throws a dirty look over to the bar, receives a cheerful wave and a wink in return. She lets out a disgusted noise, turning back to Klaus. "Fine. It's Caroline."

"North or South?"

She huffs, annoyed. "It's actually Caroline. Do you want to see my license?"

"I'll trust you. As a show of good faith to get our game off on the correct foot."

"I haven't agreed to your little side game," Caroline points out.

"You will," he says, far too confidently.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're really annoying?"

"I have five siblings," he deadpans, eyes bright and not the least bit offended.

She bites her cheek to keep from smiling. What is _wrong_ with her? Why is she enjoying this? She adopts a tone of fake concern,"So getting called annoying is like a daily thing? Maybe you should think about _why_ that is."

He shrugs, "I am what I am. And you, Caroline, do not like to lose. _That's_ why you'll agree to another match."

"Again with the annoying," she grumbles. "What are your terms?"

"Three sets. Winner takes all. And you speak to me for the duration of the games."

"I _have_ been speaking to you." True, though the vast majority of what she'd said had been bullshit. Something Klaus is well aware of if his dismissive snort is anything to go by.

"Yes, and while listening to you ramble on about cow tipping has been _fascinating_, I'm fairly certain every other word out of your pretty mouth has been drivel."

"Maybe. I've never done it," she admits. "It just seems mean. I'd be pretty pissed if someone walked into my house and shoved me when I was minding my own business eating my dinner, so…"

Klaus laughs, studying her with great interest. "That's the most interesting thing you've said all night, Caroline."

She felt her face warm but refused to look away. He had a way with pretty words and that just wasn't fair. She liked compliments, wasn't going to apologize for that. Having an attractive man look at you like he'd climb mountains to learn your secrets, then thank you for the privilege, was a heady thing.

Bonus, he already knew one of the big ones and he hadn't gotten judgy about her creative means of finding extra financing.

A throat clears behind them and Caroline jumps, startled. She hadn't noticed anyone approach. The bartender Klaus had pointed out (Kol, she remembers, and what is with the _names_?) offers her a smile before turning his attention to Klaus. "I've got a date. So either you and your tasty new American friend need to leave or you have to lock up."

Klaus pays his brother little mind, "Leave the keys on the bar."

Kol takes a few short steps back, "I was hoping you'd say that. There are also a few quick bits of book keeping you'll need to do. Nothing major. Have a fantastic evening!" he whirls and bolts, ignoring Klaus' irritated exclamation of his name.

His face smooths when he faces her once more, and she watches as he forces his ire down. "So, being annoying isn't just a you thing, huh?" Caroline jokes.

He blows out a breath, "I may be biased but I do believe Kol takes the award for _most_ annoying. Bekah would likely agree with me. Finn too. We've all invested in this place and Kol dislikes the more tedious bits of running the business. Is forever attempting to pawn the books off."

"Weird. Math is so soothing."

That earns her another laugh, quick and surprised.

Caroline crosses her arms defensively, "What? It's logical and orderly. Did you assume that just because I'm blonde I never mastered anything beyond long division?"

He holds up his hands, "Nothing of the sort, I promise. I suppose it might explain your affinity to the game, however."

Another accurate guess. Pool was similar in some ways, actions got predictable reactions. If she hit the ball in a certain spot, with a certain amount of force, she knew what would happen. She liked the control. Speaking of, "You mean the game you're going to lose?" she asks him sweetly, planting her hands on the felt and leaning forward. She lets her tone drop conspiratorially, "Because I was taking it easy on you, you know."

His eyes flash, darken at the challenge. "Don't," he says simply, a touch of gravel in his tone that hadn't been there before.

Oh, she definitely wouldn't.

* * *

She'd won the first game though it had been a struggle. The second's dragging on. Mostly because they've resorted to distraction techniques. It started when he pushed up his sleeves, clenched his hands around the edge of the table in one of the best displays of forearm porn Caroline had ever witnessed.

She'd actually _scratched_ and Klaus had radiated smugness.

At which point Caroline decided that it was _on_.

She'd excused herself, claimed a desperate need of the ladies room. Stripped off her cardigan _and_ her strapless bra while she'd been there. Loosened the adjustable straps on her sundress, all the better to let them strategically fall down later.

She'd ditched her shoes when she'd emerged, had exaggerated the groan of relief she'd felt at being free of the heels. She'd thought she'd seen his eye twitch at the throaty, satisfied noise.

The game had then taken a decidedly more _physical_ turn. She brushed passed him as she eyed her shots, touched him to nudge him out of her way. He followed suit, pressing himself lightly to her back and murmuring an offer of advice in her ear.

Please, like she'd _ever_ take it.

Still, she'd lingered when he swept her hair over one shoulder, skimmed his palm down her arm. Her body had hummed in anticipation, her skin heating more and more every time he touched her. She'd begun to sweat, her nipples grew painfully tight. Something Klaus definitely noticed. When his lips brushed she shoulder she'd shivered, and had to bite back a complaint when he'd moved away. She wanted more, open mouthed kisses, _teeth_. From the tightness of Klaus' jaw, the shallowness of his breathing, he had too.

Soon, Caroline decided. No matter what she has to do.

They'd continued talking, trading stories. She'd told him of the countries she'd been to so far, he'd revealed that he'd lived in New Orleans for a few years. She tells him why she'd learned to play pool, elbows him when he claims that her reasoning was exactly what he'd assumed. He explains that his biological father had taught him, that the man had used it as an icebreaker the first time they'd met when Klaus had been ten.

There's none of the awkward silences that sometimes happen with strangers. Caroline's pretty sure this is going to be one of the highlights of her trip.

"Tell me. Are you really a fan of Christian Pop?" Klaus asks knowingly, tipping his glass in her direction.

Caroline throws him an incredulous look, "God, no. I am a big fan of pop music, don't get me wrong. I just like mine without heavy doses of shame-y weirdness."

"Purity is an odd concept," Klaus says.

"Yeah, especially since it only applies if you have a vagina."

He nods his agreement, expression speculative. "I'm going to guess that you _can_ dance then."

Caroline grins, dips a quick curtsy, "I happen to have been Miss Mystic Falls. I could blow your mind in a ballroom. _Or_ a club."

He makes a considering noise, low in his throat. His face is carefully neutral and it makes Caroline suspicious. "I've been to plenty of clubs. Kol liked to think of it as research. I am not easily impressed."

He's baiting her. She knows it. But she doesn't mind.

She raises a brow, glancing around the room. "Do you have something I can plug my phone in to?"

A brief look of shock crosses his face but her shutters it. "Behind the bar."

Caroline whirls without another word, snagging her purse as she goes. She doesn't bother to look for where the bar top must flip up, turning and using her arms to boost herself up. She flashes a whole lot of leg when she pulls them up and spins but figures it doesn't matter.

Not when she's planning on losing her dress anyway.

Pulling all the curtains earlier had been a smart move.

She scrolls through her phone, finds something she knows she can move to, thinks the low deliberate beat will be a pretty big clue to her intentions. She glances up to find Klaus watching her, wearing hunger and the smallest bit of wonder as he looks at her. She smiles, slow and teasing, "You might want to take a seat."

She hears a chair scrape across the floor and the sounds of Klaus settling into it. The music starts up and she lets it wash over her. She hums, letting her body roll with the opening chords. Caroline closes her eyes, tossing her hair as she sinks into the motions. When they drift open they clash with Klaus's. His lips are parted, a gleam of wetness on the lower one. He's sitting stiffly, like it's an effort to remain in the chair.

Good.

She moves with more purpose this time, finding a foothold on a shelf and climbing on to the bar. She plants her knees and runs her hands through her hair before skimming them slowly down her sides to toy with the bottom of her dress. She shifts it up, lets it sway along the tops of her thighs. The groan Klaus makes when she lets it drop is pained.

She crooks her finger in his direction and his jaw tightens. He doesn't move so Caroline tips her head to the side, pushes the strap of her dress down. She strokes her own skin, lingering over the swell of her breasts. "I thought y'all were supposed to be polite here. Can't a girl get a hand down?" She slides the other side down, arches her back and takes a deep breath until her dress is barely clinging on.

Klaus curses, low and harsh, and he makes his way over in short, rapid steps. "Caroline," he rasps out warningly, "I didn't…"

So not the time for gentlemanly restraint. Caroline waves his words away impatiently, "Mean for me to take my clothes off? That's cool. I wanted to. Now touch me," she demands.

He reaches for her then, grasps her hips and touches his mouth to the valley between her breasts. Caroline's head falls back with a sigh, a garbled "Finally," coming out.

"You have no idea how tempting you are," Klaus mutters hoarsely. "I wanted you since I saw you cheerfully manipulating those boys. They hadn't the faintest idea that you were so much more than the pretty picture you presented."

Any reply is lost when he nudges her dress down. It pools about her waist and his lips wrap around her nipple. Her hands find their way into his hair. He sucks, and she moans, tugging at his curls. She pants his name in protest when he releases her but Klaus ignores her. He pulls her closer, and she follows the directions his hands make, until both her feet are settled on the ground.

Caroline shimmies her hips until her dress drops. Klaus skims a reverent hand down her back, fitting her into the line of his body. He slips a thigh between hers and Caroline takes it as an offering, tilting her hips and grinding herself against him in search of relief. The steady ache that had built between her legs sharpens, the heat and wetness encouraged by the heated looks and deliberate touches they'd shared growing. She surges up, presses her lips to his.

It's ridiculous that he hasn't even _kissed_ her yet.

Klaus hums, lips parting immediately. She licks into his mouth and clutches at his shoulders as he responds perfectly, his tongue taunting her with sensuous brushes as his hands pull her into him more firmly. He toys with the waistband of her underwear, thumbs slipping underneath to tease her hipbones. "Off," Caroline manages, pulling her lips from his for an instant. She realizes that's a brilliant idea and slips her hands down, under his shirt. "This too."

Klaus obliges, pulling back and stripping the fabric away. She reaches for him, greedy to discover the feel of his skin, learn how his muscles will react to his touch but Klaus gently bats her hands away. "Mmm, later," he murmurs, urging her to turn. "I'm afraid my mind formulated all sorts of naughty plans as I watched you grifting. Indulge me, won't you?" The low rumble of his voice, the fingertips skimming down her stomach are both impossible to resist. She nods and Klaus makes a pleased noise. "Hands on the bar, love."

She shudders, and clutches at the edge. "Good," Klaus praises. She barely hears him because his hand has dipped lower, the other cupping a breast. He thumbs her nipple as he traces her folds. Caroline widens her stance, head dipping forward as she bites her lip. She whimpers when he presses deeper, finding her slick. His touch is slow and careful as he traces her. He finds her clit, brushes over it. Caroline's thighs shake and Klaus repeats the motion. "Good?" he asks, voice rough. "Feel free to offer direction. I can take it."

"A little harder," she requests. Her breath hitches as he immediately obeys, his exploratory caresses turning to circles that have her hips chasing the movements and the sparks they create.

Klaus's mouth is on her shoulder, breath hot on the nape of her neck. She's relieved it's not entirely steady. She can feel his cock, hard and pressing into her ass, and she arches her back to push against it harder. He hisses and his hand abandons her breast. Caroline moans when her slips two fingers inside of her, his other hand tunneling into her underwear to continue teasing her clit. His fingers speed up, cock grinding into her with more purpose. "You know, I really should have left you on the bar. I believe the noises you'll make when I do this with my tongue will be _delightful_." He punctuates the word with a firm pinch to her clit and Caroline's body shakes, her head hitting the wood of the bar with a thunk as an orgasm washes over her.

He's still hot along her back when she can think again, tense even as his hands run soothingly down her sides. Caroline reaches back to peel her panties down. "Please tell me you have a condom," she says.

Klaus groans, and she hears a flurry of movement, hears his belt jingle as it hits the floor. A condom wrapper is tossed on the bar and she turns her head to look at him, watch his hands as he strokes it on. He smiles at her and she finds herself returning it, knows it's probably goofy. But he's not exactly playing it cool either, pink cheeked and watching her avidly, so she can't bring herself to feel embarrassed. Klaus tugs one of the stools over, wraps his hand around her knee and encourages her to prop her foot up on the lower rung. Then she feels the tip of his cock prodding at her entrance. Caroline lets out a shuddery breath and straightens, lifting one hand up and behind her to sink into his hair. She tips her hips, encouraging him, and he sinks into her with a groan that Caroline echoes.

She wants to praise him for the stool, because it's a really good call, but words aren't something she can formulate. She expects him to move, wants him to, could really go for a little fast and rough and messy (though she wouldn't say no to slow and lazy later on), but Klaus stays still. Caroline clenches down and he curses. His hands drop to span her hips. "You're trying to kill me," he mutters darkly.

"You'd be of no use to me dead," Caroline spits back, sneaking a hand down intent on touching herself.

Klaus thwarts her, yet again, and she whines. "I want you to come home with me," he tells her, before she can try again. "For tonight. Longer, if I can convince you. And I think I can."

Caroline _knows_ he can. And hey, she'd planned to spend another two weeks in London. After that, who knows? It's a no brainer.

The yes spills from her lips and then Klaus is moving, his hands on her hips helping her chase that perfect angle. She cries out when they find it and sets her own fingers on her clit. She rubs frantically and it's another quick climb to an amazing finish, Klaus' voice murmuring encouragements until she comes hard, her legs shaky and barely holding her.

Not a concern a few moments later. Klaus fulfills his promise, has her perched on the bar with her legs spread wide before the last flutters of orgasm have left her his tongue working over her folds, perfecting the motions he'd learned she liked.

They try the pool table afterwards. Luckily it's sturdy.

Klaus never does get to the books.


	63. Lights and Sparks

**Notes: **Still stuck on the multichapters so I figured I'd clear out some of my old old prompts. There will be a number more over the next few days!

**Lights and Sparks**

**(Prompt: KC + "I just wanted to put Christmas lights up but I ended up falling off the ladder and crashing into you while you were delivering a package to my door but oh god you're hot" AU. Rated T).**

Caroline eyes the wooden ladder with trepidation, lifting one booted foot and resting it on the lowest step. She presses down to test it and the small creak she hears is _not_ reassuring. She bites her lip and considers her options. Mystic Falls, by virtue of being teeny tiny, had lacked a hardware store since Mr. Nelson had retired when Caroline had been in high school. If she wants to buy a new ladder she's going to have to drive a good forty five minutes. And she's not even sure she can fit one in her car so the trip hardly seems worth it.

She'd already thought about popping over to one of the neighbors but that had been a bust. The ones she knows are all at work for the day and she really wants to surprise her mom by having the lights up when she gets home. She'd even trekked next door, knocked on the door of her mother's newest, and most mysterious, neighbor but she'd gotten no answer.

Something Caroline had been a little disappointed about, honestly. She's yet to catch a glimpse of him herself and it bugs her. People generally moved away from Mystic Falls. She had. In fact, this was the first Christmas she'd come back for since college.

Maybe that could explain her preoccupation. She was stir crazy, going a little nutty from boredom. There really was _nothing_ to do in this town.

Caroline glances to the left at the house that had belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Mueller when Caroline was growing up. They'd doted on her when she'd been small, Mrs. Mueller forever plying her with cookies and letting Caroline ramble on about what she'd been learning about at school. They'd only had one child who'd lived too far away to visit frequently and Caroline had lapped up the attention that had come with being a surrogate grandchild. Unfortunately, Mr. Mueller had suffered a stroke when she'd been in middle school and Mrs. Mueller had ended up moving to a retirement community in Florida. She'd passed away a few years after that. The house had been vacant for years and Caroline had been shocked to see a large black SUV parked in front when she'd come home to spend Christmas with her mom.

Curious, she'd peppered her mom with questions and had been miffed when little information had been available. The small town gossip mill had seriously been slacking and she'd resolved to pump Matt (as owner of The Grille, literally the only bar for miles, he had to have _some_ info, right?). All her mom had known was that he was the Mueller's great-grandson but that he'd actually never met them. News that further frustrated Caroline because there was _clearly_ a story there. How had her mom not pressed?! Caroline must have gotten her innate nosiness elsewhere. Other than that all Caroline had learned was that his name was Klaus and her mom guessed that he was about Caroline's age, maybe a few years older. He'd mostly kept to himself in the two months since he'd arrived in Mystic Falls, occupying himself with improvements to the house he'd inherited. She's been excited at the opportunity her rickety ladder presented, thought it a perfect opportunity to make Klaus' acquaintance. He was renovating so he'd definitely have one. She could get what she needed to finish her project _and_ attempt to charm more details about just who he was and why he'd decided to settle in Mystic Falls.

Talk about a win win.

But, Caroline's plan had been thwarted despite the fact that his SUV was in the driveway. Her knocks had gone unanswered and she'd had to accept that she was back to square one. She had to use the ladder her dad had always used, purchased at least twenty-five years ago. It had rarely made it out of the garage in the last twelve but admitting defeat was not an option. The lights had to go up today. She had a _schedule_.

She was just going to have to cross her fingers and hope for the best. Nodding decisively Caroline turns and marches back into the garage. She'd already spent a solid four hours detangling the lights, searching out faulty bulbs, no way was she letting that effort go to waste. She picks up two of the coils and loops them over her shoulder and pockets the stapler before returning to the ladder.

Caroline wishes she'd thought to bring her phone out so she could shove her earbuds in and crank Christmas music. Listening to the creaks as she made her way up was only going to freak her out more.

She takes one final deep breath and starts to climb, determinedly not looking down. She goes quickly, and throws her arms up and does a little shimmy now once she's safely on the roof. Caroline tosses one last glance at her mom's mysterious neighbour's house. From this vantage point she can see lights on upstairs and she frowns. So he _was_ home.

Rude. Had he never heard of being neighborly? It was a week away from Christmas! She aims a glare, well aware that he would never actually see it. It made _her_ feel better. Turning away Caroline shoves Mr. Scrooge out of her mind and scans the roof with a critical eye, considering how her (admittedly crude) drawings will translate in reality.

She quickly becomes absorbed in the her. It's frustrating in the beginning, working out the best angle to hold the staple gun, figuring out how to lay the light strings evenly to get the effect she wants. Soon her ladder issues and the neighbor are forgotten.

Until she has to get down.

The ladder looks even sketchier from above and Caroline stares down at it with nerves churning in her stomach. They'd gotten a light dusting of snow last night and it's been blown from off the roof and the surrounding trees, drops of water clinging to each step of the ladder. She kinda wishes she'd thought to bring up a rope or something because that _did not_ look safe. Still, she's chilled and damp, nose frozen and drippy and probably bright red.

A cup of hot chocolate, extra marshmallows, sounds amazing and she can only have it if she gets down.

Caroline turns and crouches, glancing over her shoulder as she stretches out her leg. She lets out a sigh of relief when she connects with a rung and eases her weight onto the ladder, inching backwards with her hands firmly planted on the roof until she's situated solidly, both feet steady.

Step one, the most difficult, complete. A few more steps and she'd be home free. She'd make her hot chocolate, shower and order some food, and wait for her mom to get home. "You've got this," she mutters to herself, because a little positive thinking never hurt anyone.

Caroline's about halfway down when she spies a dark shape out of the corner of her eye. It's unexpected, startling her since the street's been quiet all afternoon. She twists her neck abruptly trying to get a better look. _Too_ abruptly and she loses her balance, letting out an alarmed squeak. She clings to the ladder with desperate fingertips but it's useless, she can't get any traction with her feet, her boots sliding on the wet wood. She registers a rough curse, several soft thumps, and a hand on her back. She realizes that someone's trying to help her but it's too late.

She's going down.

Caroline squeezes her eyes shut as she feels herself slipping, two strong hands gripping at her coat in a last ditch attempt to right her. She goes down, taking her would be rescuer with her. A hand cradles the back of her head, saving it from the worst of the impact, and her eyes fly open with a gasp as a heavy weight knocks the wind out of her. It lets up immediately and Caroline wheezes, blinking up at the unfamiliar man who's now braced over her, expression tense and concerned. "Are you alright?" he asks, brushing the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. He gently angles her head so he can check her pupils, his hand rubbing over her scalp, checking for injuries.

His hands are warm and his eyes dark blue and thickly lashed. He's very attractive and Caroline's mind is a bit blurry. One of her hands lifts, rests on his jaw. She rubs her thumb over the stubble there absently. Later, she'll blame what she blurts out next on shock. "Am I dead? Are there actually hot angels who usher people into the afterlife? I thought that was only in the movies."

The stranger's lips curl in amusement, "While I'm _flattered_ I can assure you that you are quite alive. And that I'm no angel. I do believe we should get your head looked at, however. You may be concussed."

"M' fine," Caroline tells him, her head clearing as an ache in her back starts up. She rolls her head to the side and notices a couple of brown boxes scattered across the walkway. "Wait, are you UPS or something?"

He laughs this time, rolling to the side and getting to his knees. "From angel to delivery man? Talk about a downgrade."

Oh god she'd called him an angel. A hot angel. That was mortifying. She feels her face heats and sits up, wincing as it sends another twinge through her limbs. He notices and sobers setting a palm lightly on her shoulder. "Hey, easy. You fell a fair distance. Does anything feel wrong? Broken?"

Caroline takes a second to consider, wiggling her fingers and toes. "No, I think I'm fine. Just bruised. And embarrassed, obviously. Sorry for landing on you."

He stands and offers her a hand and Caroline takes it, allowing him to tug her to her feet. "No harm done, love. I think it might have been my fault for startling you. Only fair that I slowed your fall. Your mother strikes me as a formidable woman so I'd hate to have been responsible for seriously injuring her only daughter."

"Yeah, you'd probably spend some time in the cell at the station."

He nods, a smile tugging at his lips. "Right. And I'm afraid I'm far too pretty for prison."

That startles a laugh from Caroline but she cuts it off when it worsens the discomfort she's feeling. She clutches her side, "Ouch," she grumbles. "Don't be funny, please. Think of my poor ribs."

He looks concerned and crouches to gather the packages, "Apologies. I'm Klaus."

"Caroline," she offers. "But you already knew that, right?"

"I did. You mother mentioned you and it's on these," he nods down at the boxes. "They were delivered yesterday morning. You must have been out and I got involved in a project and forgot to drop them off."

She reaches out to take them from him but he takes a step back and shakes his head. "I've got them. You just focus on getting up the steps."

Caroline crosses her arms, forcing herself not to react to the uncomfortable pull in her side. "I really am fine. And nothing in there is heavy. It's the last of my Christmas shopping." And a few things for her, of course. Holiday sales were far too tempting. Thank god for discrete packaging because she'd splurged on a thing or two that would make this encounter even _more_ awkward.

"Humor me, sweetheart. Your mother has a gun, remember?"

Giving up Caroline turns, makes her way up the porch more stiffly than she would like. "Yeah, she conveniently always had to clean it whenever I had a date in high school. Made a boy hesitant to get handsy, let me tell you."

"Smart woman," he remarks, following her to the door.

"Tell that to my teenage hormones."

He laughs again and Caroline has to admit that it's a nice sound. One she's not opposed to hearing more of. "Something tells me you managed to convince them," he says knowingly.

She snorts. "Duh. You can convince a teenage boy to take a flying leap off the falls once you lose your bra."

"I know. I was once a teenage boy."

Caroline pushes open the door and turns, leaning against the frame. She'd been curious about him, hadn't she? Maybe _this_ was the golden opportunity she'd been looking for. If nothing else she'd have the best gossip for when she met up with Bonnie on Christmas Eve. She gives him a not so subtle once over, letting her mouth pull into a smirk, "And you long ago was that?"

He raises an eyebrow, "Are you interrogating me?"

"Maybe. Is that a problem?"

He takes a moment to consider, his head tipping to the side. "Can I return the favor? Perhaps this evening, over drinks?"

She bites her lip to keep from smiling. This is far from how she expected this afternoon to go but a date with an attractive man wasn't exactly a bad turn of events. Hadn't she just been lamenting her boredom? Klaus seemed like an excellent distraction. Caroline gestures inside, "I'd like that. Do you want to come in? I was going to make some hot chocolate and I made sugar cookies yesterday."

"Attempting to use baked goods to lull me into a false sense of security?" he jokes, but he steps inside the house, toeing off his shoes once she discards hers. "You play dirty. Noted."

Caroline stops trying to hide her smile, and it might be a little devious. "Oh, you have no idea."

The interest on Klaus' face only grows, turning speculative and eager. He sets her packages down on the hallway table, and surprises her by reaching out and wrapping his fingers in her scarf. He watches her reaction carefully and she steps closer to him, a not so subtle invitation. He smiles at her, loosening the knotted wool. "I look forward to finding out," he murmurs. "And I've a few tricks of my own."

She fights a shiver when he brushes against the skin of her collarbone. It was a good sign of things to come that she reacted to so simple a touch.

Caroline was positive that learning Klaus' tricks was going to be _fun_.


	64. You Keep Track

**Notes: **Another of my Tumblr drabbles. Post canon-ish (no baby nonsense!) and smutty. Enjoy!

**You Keep Track**

**(Prompts: "Klaroline smut: Caroline gets jealous, but Klaus makes her understand otherwise. loads of positions add a bonus", plus "Prompt 11 from your smut list please? I love you for writing all these amazing drabbles ****㈎9㈵6"**** (Public Sex from the Kink List) and "Could you do a Klaroline plus public sex and almost getting caught." Title from "Talk to Me, Dance With Me" by Hot Hot Heat. SMUT.)**

The bartender sets a shot glass in front of her and Caroline forces a thin smile of thanks. It burns when she tosses it back, and not in a good way. She signals for another and it's hurriedly supplied. Quick service is one of the perks of showing up on Klaus' arm, something Caroline's learned in the last few weeks. He had a certain way of walking into a place that made people take notice. Staff at restaurants, bars, even stores, tended to sit up straighter, rush to do his bidding, even in places where everyone was human with no way of knowing what Klaus was or how murder-y he got when he was displeased. Tonight they're at a vampire friendly club in Paris and the excited buzz when she'd walked in with him, Kol and Rebekah at their heels, had been palpable.

Caroline's explored such places before, reveled in the music and the freedom they provided, though it's been a few years. It's the first time she'd ever gone with Klaus and she'd had to excuse herself from his side after a few minutes. The thumping bass the smells in the air – blood and sex and sweat – did _things_ to her. Her skin prickled, extra sensitive to the heat Klaus gave off and her mind whirled with thoughts of dragging him to the dance floor, of what they could get up to in the thick crowd, covered by darkness. She felt her control slipping and she'd needed to get away before she pounced.

She's resolved to give herself time, allow for a little test run, before she went all in. She owed it to herself to be sure that a life with Klaus was something she could handle and the last few weeks in his company had been more good than anything else, nudging her towards a decision that had been decades in the making. They'd had brief interactions in the years since she'd left Mystic Falls, sometimes torrid nights that ended with torn sheets and sore thighs, sometimes casual wanderings through whichever city they happened to be in. Caroline walked away from the former with great difficulty, always tempted to see if the highs could get even higher. From the latter she left with a new understanding of the little pieces of Klaus that few people got to see, new information that made her itch to know more about him _and_ about the things they'd seen.

She totally blamed that degree in architecture on him.

He always offered to prolong their visits, inquiring if she'd like to accompany him back to wherever he was calling home. Every single time she'd made herself say no, until the most recent. She'd had a hard time biting back the giddy laugh that had wanted to burst out as she'd taken in the near dumbfounded expression on Klaus face when she'd said actually yes a couple of weeks ago.

Klaus being _Klaus_ had recovered quickly, smoothly tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and talking about the townhouse they'd be staying in. They'd settled in to something of a (sadly sex free) routine and it had been easier than she'd ever expected. A few nights ago Caroline had awoken with a raging craving for brownies and had been mixing up a batch when Klaus had strolled into the kitchen, sleep mused and far too adorable for someone as feared as he was. He'd helped himself to a stool and they'd started talking. Talking, as it often did, devolved into bickering. This time about chocolate of all things and the next morning he'd produced tickets to Paris, glibly explaining that he couldn't live with himself if he continued to let her be completely wrong.

A challenge Caroline couldn't resist.

Unfortunately, Kol and Rebekah had somehow gotten wind of Klaus' plans and had taken it upon themselves to tag along. Neither was shy about offering an observation and Caroline, and her relationship with Klaus, was their current favorite subject. They were constantly spouting off commentary, snide jokes and crude suggestions and it took every ounce of her self-control not to snap back. She knew it would only encourage them. She has no idea where they'd wandered off to, would guess that their indulging in the free flowing, willingly given, blood the club offers. Caroline really can't bring herself to care as long as their out of her hair.

Caroline had excused herself from Klaus' company after they'd made a lap of the room, claiming she needed the ladies room but really just needing to buy herself a little time to compose herself. He'd looked annoyingly knowing, taking in her flushed cheeks and dampened skin, told her to take her time and find him when she was finished.

Klaus had leaned in to speak to her, flooding her senses with the scent of him, and it hadn't helped her beat down her body's cravings _at all_.

She'd made a hasty retreat and spent long minutes shoring up her resistance in the bathroom, Caroline had told herself, as she had many times in the last few weeks, that there was no need to rush. She had nothing but time and Klaus' patience hadn't run out yet, so what were the odds that it would now?

Caroline had felt far more confident when she'd exited. She'd even thought that she might be able to handle a little dancing, provided they kept things semi PG. She'd scanned the club looking for him only to have her mood sink once she spotted him. Instead of approaching she'd made a beeline for the bar.

He'd had company, after all. It would have been rude to interrupt.

She'd been sneaking glances in his direction as she downed shots. Klaus was across the room and appeared to be _very_ busy. He was talking to a petite redhead as she gazed at him with wide eyed adoration. Caroline had already forgotten her name, only knew that she was a witch in from one of the city's most prominent (and powerful) covens. The girl was wearing a silver dress that showed a lot of boob. Boobs that were practically pressing up against Klaus' chest the last time Caroline had checked. She takes another peek and finds herself scowling. The redhead was stroking his arm and Caroline would bet good money she was deploying serious sex eyes. She hears the clink of class on wood and reaches blindly for the shot, barely noticing the alcohol sloshing over her hand. Maybe this one would do the trick, calm the confusing mix of hurt and anger and jealousy twisting her stomach into knots.

"Wasteful," an amused voice drawls from her side. Caroline stiffens and ducks her head, giving her empty shot glass a spin with her fingertips. She was so not in the mood for Rebekah.

An arm is slung over her shoulder, a body pressed to her other side. Caroline closes her eyes briefly in resignation when she registers just who's draping himself all over her. Rebekah was bad. Rebekah and Kol _together_ were even worse. In their company she's come closer to developing a migraine than is physically possible for a vampire without outside magical influences. "I hate to admit it but she's right, darling." Kol drawls. "Why pay for the good stuff if you're going to waste it?"

"She's not paying for it, is she?" Rebekah interjects coldly.

Caroline's eyes narrow, her head snapping to the side. That was going too far. "I am perfectly capable of paying for my own drinks," she spits out, matching Rebekah's frostiness.

She's about to continue but Kol interrupts. "Sheathe your claws, Bekah. Niklaus has such limited charms. Can you really blame him for using all the tools he has available to woo a lady?"

Rebekah bristles and Caroline's really not in the mood to be literally in the middle of one of their petty fights. "He's not wooing me," she says though she immediately regrets it. She knew they'd take it as an invitation to comment on her current relationship with Klaus and she didn't want to hear it. Not when the knowledge that she might be too late sat heavy on her shoulders.

She can feel the weight of their eyes on her, knows that Rebekah's would be scornful, Kol's incredulous. "He's been wooing you for decades. I am most impressed by your stubbornness. It makes Nik ever so ornery and no one deserves it more. He's all smiles and pretty words with you, but he's excessively short tempered when you're not in earshot. Having you so close is _killing_ him," Kol informs her gleefully. "He broke the sofa in his hotel room last night when you once again left him with nothing more than a 'thanks for dinner' and a pat on the head."

Rebekah makes a sympathetic noise and Caroline catches the malice in her smirk, "Can you really blame him for moving on to someone more accommodating?" she asks innocently, looking pointedly over to where Caroline knows Klaus his. "That one certainly looks like _fun_."

Suddenly, Caroline is very tired. She keeps her face carefully blank, no need to let Rebekah know that her blow had successfully landed and amped up Caroline's misery. "She sure does," she agrees, impressed with how cheerful she manages to sound, before turning to Kol. "Tell Klaus I went back to the hotel if he asks, would you? I wouldn't want to interrupt."

Whatever Kol says in reply is lost as she hurries away. Caroline pushes through the crowd, not bothering to be polite, keeping her eyes on the door and the freedom it offers. She'd checked her coat but she can't stand the thought of waiting in line for it and she's a vampire so it's not like a little cold will kill her and any odd looks she receives from passerby will barely phase her at this point, stuck in her own head as she is.

How could she have been so stupid?

She's almost out when she feels a familiar presence at her back, a strong hand on her waist. Caroline stills, eyes drifting closed. She'd assumed Klaus would be too occupied with Witchy VonBusty to notice her fleeing but that was obviously a mistake. She knew that Klaus missed little.

He presses his chest to her spine, and she curses the low back of her dress. He's warm and solid and she does not need to be thinking about all the times they've been in a similar position, with less fabric between them. Her hair's piled on top of her head so there's not even that flimsy barrier to prevent her from the distracting sensation of his stubble-roughened jaw scraping against the side of her neck as he speaks in her ear. He sounds perplexed, "Wherever are you going, love?"

"Hotel," she manages breezily. "I'm really not into this music and I didn't want to cramp your style and interrupt your little… whatever."

Klaus is tugging her to face him before she can even finish her sentence, his too shrewd eyes fixed on her face. She does her best to remain neutral, tamp down everything she's feeling until she can sort it out in private. He studies her for a long moment, hand sliding around her waist absently. He's rarely touched her these past few weeks though the way his eyes linger leave little doubt that he wants to. She hadn't needed Kol's words to know that Klaus' control is a tenuous thing. She'd seen it in the edge of gold that sometimes bleeds into his eyes, the tenseness of his jaw when he glances away from her when a moment turns a little too heated.

They can do sex. They'd proved that in the woods behind the Salvatore's place when she'd been in college the first time and many times in the years since. They'd always done sex _very_ well though they hadn't in quite some time. Caroline hadn't wanted to muddy the waters while she figured out how they did _other_ stuff, the everyday things that a life together would entail. She needed to be able to separate their chemistry from everything else, had claimed a guest room instead of a spot in his bed, and Klaus has followed her lead. It's not easy and she's often left his company with her body screaming in protest. She's dealt with her tension by furiously masturbating with her face stuffed in a pillow to avoid any noises so Caroline can't blame Klaus destroying furniture to deal with his.

It's not until his hand shifts up, thumb rubbing over the ridges of her spine, that Caroline thinks to break away. It's too much and she puts a good foot of distance between them, pinning her gaze to a spot above his shoulder. "So yeah," she stammers. "I'm just gonna go and you can get back to your… friend. I'll see you tomorrow."

She hears his next words clearly and sometimes vampire hearing is a pain in the ass. "You're jealous," he states, his satisfaction clear.

Caroline stiffens, eyes narrowing in a harsh glare, though she still refuses to look directly _at_ him. "You wish," she spits out.

"Fervently. For years," he replies, pressing forward a step until he's back in her space. He touches her chin and Caroline makes herself meet his gaze through sheer stubbornness, her lips pressed tightly together as her body practically vibrates with the urge to flee. "But this is not about my wishes, Caroline. You saw another woman pressed against me and you _hated_ it."

"Shut. Up," she hisses, hands balling into fists.

Klaus' grin is slow and predatory, "Make me."

She seriously considers kissing him. Fisting her hands in his curls and biting down on his plush lower lip until he bleeds and his amusement turns to hunger. But what would that really solve? Caroline shakes her head, blinks furiously as her eyes prickle. "We'll talk about this later, Klaus. It's fine. I have no claim on you, I get it."

His expression turns irritated, eyes burning with it before his head dips, lips pressing the lightest of kisses to her collarbone. He inhales deeply and his voice is a gravelly taunt when he speaks again, "Well, I never took you for a coward but I'm bound to be wrong occasionally."

"I am not a coward," Caroline grits out.

She feels his soft laugh against her skin as he crowds closer, one of his thighs pressing between hers. Her nipples tighten behind the cups of her bra at the fleeting pressure and she nearly misses his words starting back up, "Do you really think I don't know, Caroline? That I can't feel your skin heat up, hear your heartbeat race? I know what the creak of your bedsprings means and it takes every ounce of my finely honed control not to interrupt when I hear the slick sounds of your fingers toying with your pussy at night. You know how much I enjoy it when you touch yourself. I hear all of those ragged little pants you try so hard to supress. The scent of your arousal is one of my favorite things on this planet. I can smell it no matter how tightly you press your lovely thighs together. You want me."

She bites back a moan and squeezes her eyes shut. They fly open when Klaus nips at her neck, his tongue soothing the sting immediately after. She meets the narrowed eyes of the redheaded witch, who's blatantly staring at Caroline and Klaus, and all the places they're pressed together, with something like hate etched onto her pretty features.

Something snaps, reason or logic or her ability to overthink. Maybe all of the above.

Mine, something inside of her snarls and it's that single thought, primal and right and long overdue, thrumming through her and guiding her. Caroline yanks Klaus' head to the side, lets her fangs drop and _bites_.

He lets her, encourages her, a hand dropping to cup her ass and pull her harder against him as a deep approving noise rumbles out of his chest. Caroline swallows greedily for a long moment, hips rocking mindlessly against Klaus before she retracts her fangs, licking at the wound until it closes. He's hard against her lower stomach, body a taut line against hers. His lips take hers the second she pulls back, his groan spilling into her mouth as he tastes his blood on her tongue. He lifts her abruptly and Caroline squeaks in surprise even as her legs twine around his hips. She feels them moving, brushing against who knows how many people but she can't bring herself to care, too wrapped up in the possessive rasps of his tongue against hers. Her back hits the wall and his hands are impatient, shoving her skirt up around her waist and tearing her panties away. Klaus ruts against her and Caroline moans, head tipping back against the wall. The rough fabric of his jeans is both too much, abrading her sensitive skin, and not nearly enough. She needs pressure on her clit and Caroline rolls her hips in search of more.

Klaus has nosed down the strap of her dress, tears through the material of her bra with his teeth. Complaining is the last thing on her mind when he sucks her nipple into his mouth. Caroline arches her back away from the wall but Klaus holds her firmly, slowing the motions of her hips with a firm hand. A sob of protest gets stuck in her throat, coming out a garbled gasp, when he works his hand in between them. She feels the back of his fingers slide through her folds, shudders when he deliberately grinds his knuckles against her clit. She's soaked, so turned on by his words and the taste of his blood that foreplay is completely redundant. He shifts her up higher and Caroline shakes her head at the loss of sensation, wants his fingers back against her, preferably inside her. "Klaus," she whines, "I need…"

His hands make quick work of his belt and his zipper and she feels the dripping head of his cock nudge against her slit, shifts her hips to help get him situated. She's so ready, aching, but Klaus stills when he's just inside of her and she thrashes against the strength of his arms, claws at his shoulders and clenches down on his cock in the hopes he'll get the hint. "Look at me," he rasps out.

Prying her eyes open, unsure of when she'd even closed them, Caroline regards him hazily. The light is low in the corner they're wedged into but she can see people behind Klaus. She should probably care but she doesn't, not when she needs him like this. Caroline's breath catches at the sight of the black veins and double fangs he wears, evidence that the threads of his control are as frayed as hers. Her thighs tighten around him but Klaus doesn't budge. Caroline bites her lip and shifts uselessly against his hold. His eyes are bright gold and he smiles, "Good girl. Is this what you wanted, Caroline? To have me take you, for everyone to know what we are to each other? Does it bother you that someone might see this?"

The idea of the witch she'd seen Klaus flirting with stumbling upon them sends a bolt of satisfaction through her and she knows he sees it. Caroline lifts her chin and meets his eyes defiantly, "No."

One of his hands moves, his thumb feathering over her clit. Caroline shivers but keeps her eyes on his. "No?" he repeats, sounding contemplative. "Tell me, does it turn you on?"

She's honestly not entirely sure, can't think much with the too light stimulation he's applying to where she's throbbing. He continues to speak, gravelly and tempting, "Every vampire in here will know when we leave, love. Even if we tidy up they'll smell it. My release dripping down your thighs, the scent of your need all over my skin."

Okay, now that _definitely_ turned her on, sending a hot pang of desire to settle low in her stomach. Klaus' eyes light up and she yanks his mouth to hers before he can start talking, sighing as his cock slips up inside of her at the same time. He moves slowly, gliding in and out of her in smooth, shallow thrusts, a counterpoint to the frantic, messy meeting of their mouths. She bites down on her own lip and Klaus sucks the cut eagerly, his hips speeding up. "We'll revisit that thought later," he promises darkly. "We've only scratched the surface, Caroline. I want to know your most secret fantasies. The naughty thoughts you have about me when you touch yourself. Things you've never dared to speak aloud that leave you hot and wet and squirming."

She slips her hand under his shirt, palms the tense muscles of his abdomen. Digs her nails in when he shifts minutely and finds an angle that makes her vision fuzzy. His attentions on her clit speed up, his thumb drawing tight circles. "Yes," she mutters, burying her head in his shoulder. "Klaus, please…"

He picks up the pace, motions roughening as he begins to shake against her. "Everything you want, Caroline. It's yours."

Right now she wants to come and she wants him to be drinking from her when she does. She tilts her head to the side, clutching the back of his neck and urging him to her throat. She's gasps out another plea and Klaus takes the hint. His fangs slice through her skin and Caroline cries out, the pain drawing out waves of pleasure that leave her twitching in his arms.

Klaus drinks with a moan, hips pressed tightly to hers as he finds his own release. His blood is already in her system but still he waits for the wound to heal, brushing his fingers over her skin once it's smooth and whole again. Caroline combs her fingers through his hair as she waits for her body to calm, feels languid and sated and perfect right now despite the fact that she's just now noting how scratchy the brick at her back is.

Oh well. Any scratches would be healed by the time they made it back to the hotel. Klaus pulls back to look at her, something wary in his expression. Caroline supposes she can't blame him for thinking she might flee and try to chalk this up to the heat of the moment.

She's done it before.

Instead of attempting to reassure him she simply leans forward, brushes her lips over his in a gesture that's more affection than heat. Actions matter to Klaus, _not_ running is the best way to convince him of what she wants. "Do you want to come back to the hotel with me? Or we could dance. I was kinda lying about the music."

"Because you were jealous," Klaus states.

Ugh, she hates that she has to admit it. "Yep. I wanted to eat her. I might if she tries anything again. She saw me bite you and if she can't take a hint _that_ big then she deserves what's coming to her."

Klaus practically beams and Caroline rolls her eyes. Of course he'd be pleased with threats of violence. She tugs at his hair, feels his cock twitch where it's still pressed against her. An answering flicker of interest starts up between her thighs. "Hotel," Klaus says, easing her down his body. He fixes the straps of her dress while she tugs her skirt back into place. He drops a kiss to her shoulder, "My room's a bit… sparsely decorated at the moment but your bed sounds _very_ comfortable. We'll start there. Discuss your evident exhibitionist streak in greater detail after I've made you come a few more times, hmm?"

Caroline pinches his side even as a rush of arousal hits her at his words. "I might have had a thought or two about the balcony in your room at the townhouse," she says coyly, tangling her fingers with his. "Trying to keep quiet on a Saturday night, when the foot traffic is heavy. I'm bent over the railing and you have to shove your wrist in my mouth because I can't help but be loud."

Klaus absorbs that, not a flutter of judgement or distaste as he turns it over, not that she'd expected anything. There were perks to his eons on earth and all the things he'd done. Caroline can tell by the look on his face that he's already considering how to make it happen even as he tugs her through the crowd, back in the direction of the door. She presses her thighs together and he shoots a knowing look over his shoulder.

She glares half-heartedly, "Laugh it up, buddy. Maybe I'll wait a while on the really filthy ones if you're going to be annoyingly smug."

Klaus' smile remains serene and he stops abruptly. Caroline walks into him, steadying herself with her hands on his arm. He pulls her into his side and resumes his quick pace, "While that would be a tragedy, I would survive. You'd tell me eventually. We've got nothing but time."

He kind of had a point. Even so, Caroline suspects she'll be coughing up her dirty thoughts quickly. She knows Klaus will enthusiastically participate in just about anything she's dreamed up. She prides herself on being smart as hell and it would be really dumb of her not to take advantage of that.

She'd been sure when she agreed to come home with Klaus that night weeks ago, had grown surer every day since. She'd been depriving herself and that was gonna stop right now.

Anticipation was overrated. Caroline was done with hemming and hawing. She was officially all in and she doesn't plan on looking back.


	65. Being Neighborly

**Notes: **I pretty much just decided to drabble my way to 50K since they seem to be flowing alright. Plus, I'm knocking out my oldest prompts. Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing! I know I generally post these kinds of things in groups but I've been alternating writing with editing and just posting these after I'm done cleaning up the Tumblr version.

**Being Neighborly**

**(Prompt: kc+ "We live in the same building and you're locked out of your place in your underwear because you were doing laundry and forgot your key" AU. Rated T).**

Every Wednesday Caroline does laundry.

The building she lives in is situated close to the financial district, occupied by power suit wearing stockbroker types, with a few exceptions, so the laundry room was usually pretty quiet midweek. She could have it all to herself and didn't have to feel guilty about monopolizing the machines. Today she's got four of them loaded (lights, delicates, darks and knits), her basket of sheets and towels waiting for the next round, and is humming absently as she feeds the machines quarters.

She's a little bleary eyed on this particular Wednesday. Last night had been Bonnie's birthday and they'd celebrated with pitchers of margaritas and amused themselves by catcalling Enzo and his bandmates (like they were teenage girls at a Bieber concert) as they'd played a show. She's only one cup of coffee in, her brain sluggish and distracted. She doesn't see the puddle of water and detergent on the floor by washer number two, forgets to even look for it. She knows better, the machine's been leaking for weeks and Caroline's emailed the building manager _three_ times.

Caroline slips and lets out a shriek as she loses her balance, pitching forward as her legs slip out from under her. She goes down, hands scrabbling for purchase, but the smooth metal of the washing machines offers no handholds. She lands mostly on her side, slapping her hands down on the floor at the last moment, saving herself from a possible head injury. Her relief is short lived and turns to irritation as Caroline feels water soak into her leggings and t-shirt, the fabric quickly becoming sodden and clinging to her skin. "Stupid lazy freaking moron," she grumbles, teeth grinding together in her anger.

Her next email was going to be _a lot_ less polite.

She sits up and wipes water away from her bare arms grimacing at the bits of sand and dirt and assorted floor detritus she feels on her skin. Caroline doesn't even want to consider the last time the floor had been properly washed, the layers of grime, the germs soaking into her clothes. Considering the lack of urgency the building manager seemed to feel about the broken washing machine she'd bet it had been a while. Basic maintenance was obviously not a thing he was capable of handling.

She eyes it with distaste, wondering if the tiles are even _supposed_ to be grey.

Gross.

She stands and swipes her hand over the greyish streaks on her pink t-shirt irritably. Shakes her head when she only manages to make them worse, pulling the fabric away from her body. She's had the shirt since college and it's pretty much the comfiest thing she owns, worn in in all the best ways. She really doesn't want to drop it in the bottom of her dirty clothes hamper and let the dirt fester until next week.

The shirt's seen her through late night cram sessions and half a dozen breakups. It deserves better.

And she was in the _laundry_ room…

Caroline bites her lip and walks the few feet to the doorway, sticking her head out into the hallway and listening carefully. She counts to thirty and sees no one, doesn't hear any movement in the nearby apartments, no footsteps of anyone coming or going. She can just make out the elevator panel down the hall and it seems to be parked two floors down.

Could she risk it?

She hesitates for another few seconds before she decides screw it. Stepping carefully back towards the machines she lifts the lid on the one with her lights and strips her tee off, tossing it into the half full tub. She quickly wriggles out of her leggings and tosses them into the neighbouring batch of darks before reaching for one of her towels. She hurriedly wraps it around her body, tucking the edge in securely and listening carefully once more.

She blows out a relieved breath when everything remains quiet and crosses her fingers her luck will hold.

Caroline's only about halfway back to her apartment when she stops dead in the middle of the hallway and realizes what an _idiot_ she's been and resolves never to leave the comfort of her apartment before she's sufficiently caffeinated _ever_ again.

She doesn't have her keys.

She doesn't even remember putting them in her pocket when she'd left but she begins to pray to whatever deity might be listening, and willing to do her a solid, that she had and she's just forgetting about it now. Caroline whirls and speed walks back to the laundry room, throws open the lid and plunges her arm in, fishing around in the soapy water until she finds something that feels like her yoga pants.

The pockets are empty but that's okay. No need to panic just yet. She had more than one pair and they're unfortunately identical. Caroline curses the sale that had caused her to buy them even though they made her ass look amazing. It takes a few minutes to retrieve each one, her heart rate and breathing picking up speed as her anxiety heightens each time she searches a pocket and fails to find anything key shaped.

Finally, once she's done and her yoga pants lie in a sad soaking heap on top of a neighboring washing machine Caroline has to admit defeat. She is so screwed. She has no keys, no phone, and every article of actual clothing she has available to her is dripping wet.

Damn it.

She knows most of her neighbors will be at work. She could try Damon, the bartender who lived above her (he had stompy feet and she was too aware of his routine) but he was creepy and way too full of himself and would probably think she was trying to seduce him if she showed up in nothing but a towel. Katherine Pierce was an option too. Caroline wasn't exactly sure what Katherine did for a living but she seemed to keep odd hours. They weren't exactly friends but they'd exchanged small talk in the elevators fairly often. Katherine had once complimented Caroline's shoes and Caroline got the feeling that was about as warm and squishy as the other woman got. Problem was she lived four floors up and Caroline couldn't be sure she would be home.

That left… Klaus. And that could get awkward.

He lived just down the hall, right next door to her. She knew him well enough to ask for a favor had, in fact, borrowed a pair of pliers just last week. He was fond of his balcony at night, a habit Caroline shared. The view had been one of the reasons she'd signed her lease. They talked nearly every evening, sometimes for hours when she had no early commitments. She considered him a friend even though they rarely interacted in the daylight. She was certain he was home, had heard the mix of music he was fond of when he was in deep work mode (softer and more melodic than his 'this painting is not going the way I want it to and I am cranky' playlist) as she'd waited for her coffee to brew that morning. He'd taunt her, she was sure, but he'd be good natured about it. Less sleazy than Damon would be though she was sure she'd get a playful leer or two.

Charming was kind of Klaus' default mode from what Caroline had gathered.

The problem was that Caroline might have begun to wonder if she maybe wanted more than that. She'd even had a naughty dream or two recently that started with her showing up at Klaus' door. Not in _exactly_ the same way because she was usually wearing a trench coat, fuck me heels, (plus way cuter lingerie and perfect makeup), confident that her seduction attempt would succeed. It always did, her imaginary Klaus was thrilled when she dropped the coat and tugged her into his apartment with hands and mouth greedy to discover her bare skin. How was she supposed to ask him for help _now_ without thinking about _that_?

It was stupid but she felt like they knew each other pretty well through their late night conversations. What if he took one look at her and knew the paths her mind had been travelling? What if her subconscious had totally misread the situation, read more into his teasing and pet names and flirty tones than he'd ever meant her too? Maybe the accent just made it _sound_ like he was into her?

It was only 10 AM and her day had kinda already sucked. A 'you're a sweet girl, Caroline, but I'm just not that into you' speech would be the perfect capper to the awfulness.

But it's not like she has much of a choice, does she?

Cursing under her breath, mentally planning the incendiary email she'll be writing (and CC-ing to the company who owned the building) once she's safely clothed and back in her apartment – seriously if the building manager knew what was good for him he'd stay out of her way – Caroline shoves her yoga pants back into the washer, hauls the 'Wet Floor' sign out from behind the door (because it was only freaking polite) and stalks out of the laundry room once more. She keeps her chin up, shoulders back, tries to appear serene, like this is an everyday occurrence that she's not the least bit embarrassed about.

Fake it till you make it, she tells herself, steeling her nerves to knock on Klaus' door. She doesn't let herself hesitate, lifts her fist and raps firmly, shifting on her feet once she hears the clicking of the locks.

"Morning!" Caroline chirps, as Klaus throws the door open. His mouth falls open slightly, eyes widening in surprise as he takes her in. He's barefoot, wearing jeans that have seen better days and a t-shirt that might have been blue once but it's so speckled with paint she wouldn't bet on it. There are streaks of yellow and cream on his forearms and Caroline idly wonders if they would transfer to her skin if he were to touch her right now.

A thought she immediately shakes off because she was trying to play it cool and not make it obvious that she had serious interest in jumping his bones.

Klaus seems to be having trouble deciding what to say, lips moving but no words coming out. Caroline plows ahead, "So, I locked myself out of my place. Mind if I use your phone to call my friend Bonnie? She's got my spare set."

He steps back automatically, gesturing for her to come in.

Caroline breathes a sigh of relief because that had been surprisingly simple and pads into his apartment. She hears the door close and Klaus clears his throat. "You locked yourself out of your flat in a towel?" he questions incredulously.

Caroline winces. She'd known there'd be commentary. She keeps her tone light, her back to Klaus as she wanders over to the sliding glass door that leads to his balcony, "Not exactly. It's kind of a funny story. You know how that one washing machine is terrible?"

Klaus hums an agreement, and she feels him drawing closer. "Yeah, well someone didn't mop up after themselves. I tripped and my clothes got all wet and icky. I tossed them in the wash and planned to race back to my apartment but then I realized I was sans keys. Hence why I am here."

He ghosts a palm over her shoulder, "Are you alright?" he asks.

Ugh, did he have to be sweet? That wasn't going to make her little crush go away any quicker.

She turns and offers him a smile, "Fine, no injuries. Kind of regretting the decision to strip but here we are."

The look of concern on Klaus' face melts away, a tiny smirk pulling at his lips, "You really shouldn't," he assures her teasingly. "I'm certainly enjoying the results of that decision."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Oh, here we go."

He laughs but instead of doing what she'd expected – mocking her mercilessly – he shifts back a step and nods towards the hallway. "Bathroom's the first door on the left. I'll grab you something to wear. I imagine it'll take your friend a bit to get here, yeah?"

Again, not the response she'd expected. "Yeah," Caroline agrees slowly, "I don't know if she'll be able to leave work right away."

"Then I'll make tea. Have you had breakfast? I do make a good omelette, I'm told."

It's her turn to blink at him in surprise. "You don't have to cook for me. Seriously, I know you were working. I won't turn down the clothes because I'm getting a little cold but I can just sit quietly and stay out of your hair, I promise."

Klaus' reply is pointed and his head tips to the side, "I doubt you're much good at quiet, love."

Okay, maybe that was accurate. Caroline's about to protest more but Klaus inclines his head in the direction of the bathroom once more. "It's no trouble, Caroline. Honestly. My work will keep. And I'd be delighted to see if you're as fascinating in the morning as you are in the evening. Few people are, you know."

That kind of sounded like a challenge. And Caroline had never been much good at resisting those. "Fine. You're on. But only if you let me repay the favor."

"Would you like me to knock on your door wearing nothing but my underpants and a towel? It's not a tactic I've ever used to woo a woman but if you insist…"

Caroline bites her lip to keep from smiling, "I wasn't aware I was being wooed."

There's no hesitation in Klaus' reply, his eyes remain steady and warm on hers. "Then I suppose I'll have to try harder."

She sucks in a shocked breath, knows she's probably gaping at him in a way that her pageant coach would have smacked her for. But screw ladylike decorum this was a big, and amazing, revelation. "I… guess you will," she manages to stammer.

Klaus grins and nods decisively, "I'll put some thought into it. Prepare yourself."

He retreats to his bedroom without another word and Caroline hears drawers opening and closing. She takes the moment of privacy to let out the giddy laugh that had been brewing, muffling it in the crook of her arm. It's been awhile since she's felt like this about a prospective romance, thrilled and anticipatory and practically gleeful. There were full on butterflies in her stomach and she was sure her face was flushed.

She's mostly composed by the time she sets off to the bathroom, her face smoothed back into a more neutral expression. Until she passes the door to Klaus' studio, sees the canvas that's resting on an easel in the middle of the room. She stops short and her jaw drops yet again. It's unmistakably _her_. Her face in profile, her curls bright and lit by the moon as they blow in the wind. She looks beautiful, luminous, and any doubts that might have lingered about Klaus intentions, thoughts that he might just been teasing a moment ago, are squashed.

Staring at the painting she's positive it's not the work of a man who _hadn't_ been flirting.

Caroline darts into the bathroom before Klaus can catch her staring stupidly at his work. She's gonna need another moment, time to make some plans.

Klaus might be planning on upping his game but there's no reason she can't attempt a little wooing of her own.


	66. Start A Rumor

**Notes: **A celeb!AU! I love them with all my heart and soul but I feel like I am not great at writing them. But here is an attempt!

**Start A Rumor**

**(Prompt: kc + musician/actor it works either which way! + SECRETLY DATING "we made the mutual decision to go to this party separately and when i arrived there was this asshole flirting with you and i'm trying not to make it obvious i'm seething with jealousy but it's really difficult" bonus points for a few extra scenes of them in public together doing their best to pretend theyre just ~~~friends for the press. Title from "Fashionable People" by The Joel Plaskett Emergency. Rated M for some mild smut.)**

Caroline's chewing on her lip, studying her reflection critically in the mirror. She's been trying on dresses for hours, trying to find the _perfect_ one for the New York premiere of her movie. It's a small film, a different kind of role, and she wants to make an impact. Lexi had brought things that were outside of her usual style box – she'd always leaned more towards sweet than edgy - as instructed and Caroline's not entirely sure how she feels about them. The current dress is nude, long sleeved with a plunging neckline and belted waist. She's just about to call it a maybe when she hears the distinct clatter of a certain set of feet on the metal steps that lead up to her trailer. The door is thrown open without preamble and Caroline freezes, eyes going wide and meeting Lexi's in the mirror.

Shit. She really should have texted Klaus.

In her defense she hadn't thought he'd be done with his scene for at least another hour or two. He's never been very good at knocking, something that had driven her completely _insane_ (much to his gleeful amusement) those first few months of shooting their show. It's a habit that has continued and now that they've been together for a couple months it _usually_ doesn't bother her. And it wouldn't right now if it had been just Lexi with her. She's been Caroline's stylist, and friend, for years and Caroline trusts her to be discrete. However, at Klaus' appearance Lexi's two assistants go slack jawed and begin doing the hair smoothing outfit adjusting routine that he tends to inspire in women.

That's what's worrying her.

Klaus doesn't seem to notice them. He'd paused in the doorway, his lips parted as his eyes take in her form in the mirror, heated and appreciative as they rove over her. It's the kind of look that usually means she needs to strip fast if she wants all of her clothing's seams to survive his hands.

Yeah, the dress was totally more than a _maybe_.

Still. They had an audience and Klaus knew better than to look at her like that in the presence of someone who might throw a tip about them to a gossip blog.

She arches an eyebrow and crosses her arms, injects a note of annoyance into her voice even as she catches his eye and tries to urge him to play along, "Knock much? Can I _help_ you?"

He shakes himself, straightens up, and glances around her trailer. Lexi wiggles her fingers in greeting and the two assistants continue to stare at him like he's a fully stocked dessert table and they've been sugar free for months. Klaus offers them all a nod before focusing his attention back on her. She's holding her breath waiting for his response, hoping he's not going to choose _now_ to bring up the whole, 'why can't people know we're together?' thing. She might have been softening lately but that would be out the window if he decided to spill the beans before she was ready. "D'you have time to run through that scene? I feel like we focused too much on the blocking yesterday and the timing of the dialogue is off."

She sags a little in relief and turns to Lexi. "How many more dresses do we have?"

"Three."

She meets Klaus' eyes again, offers him a slightly friendlier smile. "Can you give me like half an hour? It's for the premiere next month." Something Klaus is well aware that she's insanely nervous about. Early reviews have been good but she checks Rotten Tomatoes daily just waiting for someone to tear her performance to shreds. Just that morning Klaus had found her with her phone in her hand, eyes barely open but glued to the screen.

Distracting her had almost made him late for his call time but Caroline wasn't about to complain.

Instead of leaving as she'd expected Klaus walks further into the room and settles onto the loveseat, leaning back and making himself comfortable. Caroline doesn't have to fake the glare she sends him when his boots come up to rest on her coffee table. His smile turns charming, "Take all the time you need, love."

Caroline's eyes narrow further, this time in warning, but she keeps her tone cheerful, "Wouldn't want to bore you, Klaus. How about I meet you back at your trailer?"

He shakes his head. "Surely a man's opinion wouldn't be remiss?"

Caroline's eyes roll and one of the assistants lets out a breathy giggle. It's Lexi who answers with a snort, "Please. Men only think they know what they're talking about when it comes to clothes."

Klaus looks mildly offended, picking at his sleeve, "I'll have you know British GQ named me one of their best dressed men this year. The issue will be out next week."

Caroline calls upon years of acting lessons to keep her face perfectly blank. She and Klaus shared a publicist and Katherine had been on set with him for that photo shoot. She was also an evil bitch who'd texted Caroline pics all day. She'd mauled him in her front hallway when he'd come over with dinner once the shoot had wrapped.

Klaus preferred casual clothes but he could _really_ rock a suit.

She's positive he knows where her mind has gone, the curl of his lips has become ever so slightly devious. He's weirdly perceptive about her thoughts and not _just_ the dirty ones though he delights in hearing them. "My compliments to your stylist," Lexi shoots back dryly. "Do you want me to kick him out, Caroline?"

One of the assistants looks scandalized, as if Lexi had suggested that they murder him, and Caroline lets out a sigh. "No, it's fine." To Klaus, she directs a saccharine smile, "We have a fight scene to shoot for the next episode. Remember that and don't make me _want_ to hurt you."

She hears a tiny offended huff come from one of the girls and she fights back a smile of triumph. That should nip any rumor mongering in the bud. She pads over to the corner where the rack of dresses and a screen is set up, glancing over at Lexi in question. "The blue one," she instructs and Caroline pulls the hanger.

It's another very deep vee. An intricate pattern and a zipper down the front. "Geez, Lex. This is gonna turn into the press tour o' boobs if I wear too many of these."

Lexi is unconcerned. "We'll mix it up, don't worry. The one's we're using for photo calls and interviews are all pretty sleek and demure. Besides, your boobs are fantastic so why shouldn't we take advantage?"

Caroline very pointedly avoids looking at Klaus, not sure if she could keep up the polite-ish coworkers act she's managed to swing if he had a visible reaction to _that_ statement. "I suppose you've yet to let me down," she says, ducking behind the screen.

"Damn straight!" Lexi chirps. Caroline hears her turn away. "The gold pumps with the peep toes, please." Caroline immediately hears the sound of one of the assistants rummaging through the accessory tote Lexi had brought along.

She'd left her phone behind the screen and it buzzes quietly. Caroline has a pretty good idea of just who's texting her.

**Klaus [7:17 PM]:** I make no promises about my ability to stick that very detailed list of do's and don'ts you gave me if you wear that dress, sweetheart.

She swallows her scoff. He'd been incredulous when she'd produced said list, back when they were gearing up to shoot season two and she'd admitted that her whole 'hiatus fling to get Klaus out of her system' plan had been a total bust. They'd needed ground rules and _she_ thought they'd mostly worked out just fine.

**Caroline [7:17 PM]:** You really don't have to come to this thing, you know. I know it's a pain for you to fly out and back in like 14 hours.

**Klaus [7:18 PM]:** I'm coming.

**Klaus [7:18 PM]:** Assuming, of course, that you want me to come?

She doesn't hesitate to type out her response. It's a big night for her and she knows she'll be a mess of nerves. There's no other friendly face that she'd want there more than Klaus. She has good friends, and her mom had offered to come, but few people get her, and what she does, like he's able to.

**Caroline [7:18 PM]:** I want you there.

**Klaus [7:19 PM]:** I suppose that's settled then. Now, we'll just have to do some negotiating. Surely it's permissible for your friend and co-star to come closer than, what was it you specified? Three feet? That'll look awfully odd in photos. Might start all sorts of nasty rumors about diva-ish behavior…

**Caroline [7:20 PM]:** Please. If anyone's the diva here it's you.

**Klaus [7:20 PM]:** I resent that.

**Caroline [7:21 PM]:** But you don't deny it Mr. Has Craft Services Special Order Him Chocolate Bars From The Motherland Because He Claims American Chocolate Tastes Funny.

**Klaus [7:21 PM]:** You eat them more than I do, love.

**Caroline [7:21 PM]**: So not the point.

She's startled by Lexi popping her head behind the screen, having been too intent on her phone to hear her coming. "Something wrong with the dress, Caroline?"

Caroline smiles guiltily, pulls the dress out from where she'd tucked it under her arm. "No, sorry! I got a little… distracted."

Lexi smirks, "You actor types and your phones. Klaus is glued to his too. Tweet something nice about me while you put on that dress, all right? I'm betting it's gonna be a winner."

She ducks back around the screen, leaving Caroline alone. She shimmies out of the nude dress carefully, stepping out of the wine colored suede pumps that had accompanied it. It's whisked away as soon as she tosses it over the top edge and she works on putting on the other one. The color is fantastic, one she knows looks great on her and on camera. It's much more body conscious, clings to her every curve perfectly. She smooths her hands over her sides and makes a mental note to buy Lexi a really good Christmas gift.

From the look on Klaus' face when Caroline steps into his line of sight he just might be sending the stylist one too.

* * *

"And cut! That one was perfect," Alaric, the episodes director, praises. Caroline smiles but all she really wants to do is collapse into a heap on one of the mats and take a nap. She loves the physical aspects of her role, her character – a former master thief coerced into working for the government – frequently kicks ass and takes names. But fight days are technical, requiring many takes and precision. She's been working since 5 AM and it's almost midnight. Klaus is in even worse shape (though to be fair, it's been his ass she's been pretending to kick) and she's had to tackle him twenty plus times today. She holds her breath, hoping they'll get to call it a day. Alaric's conferring with one of the producers and a camera operator. "Twenty dollars says we're her for another hour," Klaus grumbles.

Caroline groans, rolling her sore shoulders. "Don't jinx it," she warns him. "All I want to do is shower and go home."

"In that order?" he teases. "The shower at your condo is far nicer than the one in your trailer. Plenty of room for two, even."

She glances around quickly, checking to see who's in earshot, but none of the crew is paying them any attention. They're all focused on the mini conference Alaric is having and Caroline supposes that makes sense. They've _all_ had a long day. Content that their conversation is relatively private Caroline sidles closer to Klaus. Glancing at his face she winces at finding it closed off, any hint of flirty suggestiveness gone. "Klaus," she says, trailing off weakly.

Whatever he'd been about to say is cut off by Alaric calling the day a wrap and the crew begins chattering as they get ready to clear the set for the night. Klaus turns from her, tossing, "I'll see you in the morning, Caroline," over his shoulder as he walks away, brushing off a PA who offers him a bottle of water.

She bites down on the inside of her mouth to keep from calling after him knowing she would only make things worse right now. Someone calls her name and she turns to see one of the makeup artists with a box of wipes at her elbow. She takes one gratefully, scrubbing at her caked on foundation. And then another because stage makeup is no joke and she needs something to occupy herself so she doesn't go chasing after Klaus and blow their whole cover. "Are you okay?" the woman asks, sounding concerned.

Caroline forces a bright look, "Fine. Just tired. I think I'm just going to grab my stuff and head home. Thank god for late calls, right?" She says goodnight absently to a few people as she makes her way through the winding hallways of the soundstage they shoot on. She's hopeful as she steps outside glancing over to see if there are any lights on in Klaus' trailer. Her heart sinks when she sees it's dark and still, knows he must have raced to leave without her. They'd planned to sleep in tomorrow, go out for breakfast at a tiny diner that they both loved that no one looked at them twice in. They liked to linger, trading sections of the newspaper over bottomless cups of coffee.

She'd been looking forward to it, the teeny piece of normalcy that they'd gotten precious little of since shooting had resumed in July.

Caroline has two options. Head to her place, try to enjoy her too large shower alone and crawl into bed where she'd likely toss and turn and dwell on the glimmer of hurt in Klaus' features that she could see every time she shied away from him in public.

_Or_, she could go to his place. She had a key and what was the harm in _trying_ to talk to him? She had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be resting easier than she would if they let things simmer until tomorrow.

They were actors. Beauty sleep was important, right?

Mind made up Caroline lets herself into her trailer and quickly strips out of her wardrobe and into her street clothes. She scoops up her purse before hurrying to the parking lot. She keeps her head down, avoiding the few clumps of people chatting to wind down from the day.

Maybe it was rude, she's pretty sure she heard her name once or twice. Oh, well. She'd spring for cupcake platters sometime soon and everyone would forget the night she stormed off in her own little world.

She'll plan something tomorrow. But tonight? Caroline's on a mission.

* * *

The shower in Klaus' ensuite is running when she walks into his bedroom and Caroline crawls onto the bed, stuffing pillows behind her back and leaning against the metal bars that make up his headboard. Once she's comfortable she struggles to keep her eyes open but she refuses to give into the lure of sleep. Klaus is stubborn enough to leave her there and go to sleep in his guest room and Caroline has no desire to wake up in his bed alone. She sits up straighter when she hears the water cut out, twists the hem of her sweater between her fingers in an effort to keep herself occupied.

Klaus sees her as soon as he opens the door, towel clad with steam billowing out behind him. "Hey," she greets him. She makes an effort not to sound accusatory because she doesn't want to make things worse. She gets why he'd left, knows that Klaus struggles with showing weakness, has an abundance of pride, and that he hated that he was always the one asking for more. "I thought we had plans."

Klaus averts his eyes, going to collect a pair of sweatpants that had been draped over a chair. "Did we?" he asks, tone frosty and holding an edge of hostility, "I must have forgotten. Rather easy for a man to do when his significant other is so reluctant to be seen with him in public, don't you think?"

Caroline sighs, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "It's not you." She feels like a broken record and Klaus' scoff doesn't help.

"It is me if you don't trust me," he shoots back, dropping his towel and stepping into his sweats with jerky movements. "I have no problem with people knowing that I love you, Caroline. You do, and that's fine. I understand why and I'll respect your wishes but you obviously don't _trust_ that. You act like you expect me to take out an ad in _Variety_ and out us without consulting you."

Caroline misses most of the words. Her brain had kind of short circuited right at the beginning of his rant and she stares at him with her mouth ajar. "What did you just say?"

Klaus throws her an exasperated look but seems to realize just what he'd said, and what she's stuck on. He blows out a frustrated breath. "It can't be shocking that I love you."

"We've only been together for a few months," Caroline stutters out

He walks over to the bed, sitting down so his hip presses into the side of her calf. He rests his hand on her shin, "And I spent the better part of a year convincing you to give me a chance, didn't I?"

True. He'd asked her to dinner after their first chemistry test back when they'd both still just been auditioning. She'd turned him down, having sworn off dating anyone with any sort of celebrity. One ex was a country singer who'd written a very unsubtle album all about how she'd broken his heart. Another, a football player, had played like shit immediately following her breakup leading to a barrage of angry tweets from fans and insinuations about how she'd 'ruined' him from sportscasters. Caroline was more than a little burnt out on public relationships.

Klaus had been persistent (and tempting), but Caroline had firmly explained her position adding that she didn't want to risk distractions, not when a lead role in a television show on a major cable network was on the line. He'd continued to flirt once they'd both been cast, throughout the shooting of the pilot. Caroline had then been able to refuse on the grounds that she didn't want to screw up their working relationship. She'd been working steadily since she'd moved to LA five years ago and had heard more than a few horror stories about an onset romance blowing up. Caroline had no desire to be another actress people whispered about in faux pity when her ex-boyfriend was photographed with another woman.

Because it was always the woman who got painted with the sad pathetic brush. Just look at Jennifer Aniston.

Their characters had spent the bulk of the first season at odds, forced to work together and deeply resenting it and sniping at each other. The show's viewers enjoyed the charge between them, the edge of sexual tension that underpinned it. She hadn't wanted to screw that up either. The appeal of their onscreen relationship lay in it's uncertain direction. What if people stopped wondering if they wanted to kill each other or fuck whenever they were onscreen if they took things further in real life?

Klaus hadn't necessarily agreed with her reasoning, had been particularly incredulous about her insistence that their chemistry might suffer. She'd been fairly certain that he would have kissed her during that particular discussion, would have pinned her against the wall of her trailer and made her eat her words, if they hadn't been interrupted by one of their co-stars.

Caroline had thrown herself into her work, been thrilled when the first season of the show had been popular beyond her wildest dream. Klaus had stopped pressing the issue, _after_ making his position clear, and they'd become friends. Good friends. She tended to over prepare as a means of controlling her anxiety about screwing up and he was excellent at easing her mind, making her comfortable in a scene.

That very ability had been what had led her to call him from the location in Thailand, freaking out over the film she was working on over her hiatus. It was emotionally heavy, and the weight rested squarely on her shoulders. Klaus had flown out the next day, no questions asked, and she'd burst into tears when he'd knocked on her hotel room door much to his bewilderment. Still, he'd gathered her close, held her until she was able to talk, his initial stiffness easing after a few moments. He'd listened to her fears, countered each one with logic and a confident belief in her abilities that had left her awed and grateful.

Was it any wonder she'd kissed him a few days later?

He'd returned her kiss with enthusiasm and they'd raced back to their hotel. He'd asked her if she'd mind if he stayed, explored Thailand a little while she worked. Caroline had agreed and they'd fallen into an easy domesticity.

It had been the happiest she'd ever been.

She'd told herself it was temporary, knowing even then that she was probably lying to herself. They'd gone to Wales once she'd wrapped her project, stayed in the small town Klaus had been born in. It had been amazing and thoughts of breaking things off had seemed more and more impossible with each passing day.

Eventually, she'd admitted defeat, told Klaus that she wanted to try, though she'd had some terms. Wanting them to be _private_ had been number one.

There'd been some adjustments when they'd returned to Los Angeles to begin shooting but they'd managed to carve out something that Caroline thought was pretty damn amazing.

She scoots closer to him, threads her fingers through his and tugs until he looks at her. "I do trust you, Klaus. If I thought you'd ever go behind my back I wouldn't be with you. I check because I can't not check, you know? Obsessive attention to detail is kind of my thing."

He cracks a smile, "I really can't argue with _that_."

Caroline presses a kiss to his shoulder, "And I love you too, FYI."

Klaus' eyes widen and she almost wants to laugh but he's reaching for her and swooping down, a hand winding into her hair as he slants his mouth over hers. She expects frantic but Klaus goes slow and Caroline's eyes flutter shut as he teases her lips apart with gentle brushes of his tongue, his thumb stroking over her collarbone. She pushes him away when a yawn practically cracks her jaw, poking him half-heartedly in the side as he laughs into the skin of her throat. "Shut up," she mutters. "Sleepy."

He heaves himself up, pulling her with him. "Then we'll sleep."

"I'm all gross," Caroline complains though she obligingly shimmies her hips when he crouches to pull her jeans down. She reaches under her shirt and unclasps her bra, slipping it through the arm of her sweater and dropping it on the floor.

Klaus turns her pliant form around, pressing his chest to her back as he leans down to turn down the covers on his bed. "You're not. You can shower in the morning."

She twists her head back to press a kiss under his jaw, "But I wanted to have sex in the morning."

Klaus stiffens and Caroline takes the opportunity to graze his throat with his teeth. His voice is thicker, "We can do that after. Possibly _during_ your shower, even. I'm not picky."

It's her turn to laugh as she crawls under the covers, settling on her side. "I am well aware." She rolls to face Klaus as he lays down, hitching a leg over his thighs. His hand strokes the skin of her bare leg under the blankets and Caroline hums in pleasure. "'Night, Klaus," she murmurs, letting out another yawn as she burrows into her pillow. "Love you."

She barely hears him reply, lulled to sleep by his familiar scent and touch, secure in the knowledge that he'd be there in the morning.

* * *

Caroline walks into the after party trying hard to appear at least _somewhat_ cool. It's difficult, she smiles so widely it's nearly painful as she practically vibrates with excitement. She'd been too nervous to watch the screen as the movie played, her eyes darting around the theater to attempt to catch glimpses of people's reactions. They'd appeared absorbed, and she'd definitely seen the glimmer of tears in many pairs of eyes. Exactly what she'd wanted.

She'd only caught one quick glimpse of Klaus as the credits had rolled, been warmed by the look of pride he'd worn, the thumbs up he'd sent her when he'd noticed she was looking. She'd been pulled into a conversation with her director, and a couple of important critic types. She's dying to find him, pull him into a corner so she can let loose at least a few of the excited squeals that are dying to come out. Maybe see if she can manage a quick little victory dance, _something_ to get her nervous energy out before she explodes.

She scans the room for Klaus' tousled curls only to stop short when her eyes land on him. _And_ the model who's hanging all over his arm, her head tipped back as she laughs. Caroline's certain it's a completely premeditated move to allow her to lean on him, use her perfect body and slinky black dress to her advantage.

Caroline has a brief, intensely satisfying, fantasy about stalking over there and ripping out Genevieve's pretty red hair and then strangling her with it.

She takes a few deep breaths, tells herself not to do anything rash. She doesn't want her personal life to overshadow her work and if she marches over there practically breathing fire people _will_ notice. And talk. About how she's a nutball and not about her acting. Slightly calmer her eyes narrow as she studies the pair. As the rational part of her had expected (she _does_ trust him) Klaus is doing little to encourage the other woman, his posture straight and his back pressed to the bar as _she_ invades _his_ space. His expression is polite but not overly interested and he glances up periodically as if he's looking for a way to excuse himself.

Caroline shoves her murder fantasies aside with some difficulty and snatches a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. She forces her shoulders to relax and lets a pleasant smile drift over her features. She begins to walk, keeping Klaus in her sight as she winds her way in his direction.

It'll take some acting but she'll join them, make small talk with Genevieve until she can manage to get Klaus alone, _subtly_, for a few minutes.

It kills her but she _knows_ this situation is largely her own fault. She had no public claim on Klaus, at her own insistence, so she couldn't blame someone for trying to make a move when a quick Google search would tell anyone who checked that he was single.

Even if he was _hers_.

Caroline drains her glass, her resolve growing. It was time to do something to make sure she wouldn't feel like this again.

She'd slipped a copy of her room key into Klaus' pocket, pretending to stumble in her heels so she could rest her hand on his chest. He'd leaned in, the picture of gentlemanly concern, though she could see the intrigue in his eyes. He'd left shortly after and Caroline had looked for an opportunity to make her own exit. She'd feigned tiredness, and people had smiled indulgently, and congratulated her on the film. She'd dropped the pretense as soon as she was safely tucked into the backseat of her town car, pulling her phone out.

**Caroline [12:08 AM]:** On my way.

**Caroline [12:08 AM]:** Don't even think about ripping my dress. It's Balmain and it's borrowed.

**Klaus [12:09 AM]:** What about what's under the dress?

**Caroline [12:10 AM]:** Spanx. Good luck ripping those unless you've got super powers you've been keeping hush hush.

**Caroline [12:10 AM]:** Though I suppose I could take those off now…

**Klaus [12:11 AM]:** Please do.

Caroline grins and hits the button to close the driver's partition. Arching her back up off the seat she wrestles the Spanx off, taking off the black lacy bit of underwear she'd worn underneath for good measure. She takes a photo of them on the floor of the car and texts it to Klaus.

**Caroline [12: 14 AM]:** Figured I'd lose those too. They were expensive.

**Klaus [12:14 AM]:** How far away are you?

She can picture him clearly, the tense set of his jaw. Imagines how the words would sound, his accent crisp as he pushed them out. Teasing Klaus to the edge of his considerable control is one of her very favorite things even though he _always_ returns the favor. She angles her phone to take another picture, her hand in the frame stroking high on her inner thigh, and sends it.

**Caroline [12:15 AM AM]:** Fifteen minutes? Feel free to start without me. Just don't finish without me.

**Klaus [12:15 AM AM]:** Will you? I won't be able to wait to be inside of you, Caroline. I'll need you wet for me.

Caroline moans softly, digging her nails into her skin. She takes a deep shuddery breath, gripping her phone tight. She sends another picture, her fingertips toying with her nipple, the vee of her dress pushed away. And then another, of her hand buried underneath the skirt that's barely covering her with her thighs spread wide. She drops her phone next to her and focuses on her actions, her breaths shallow and loud as she gets hotter, hips circling restlessly against the smooth leather seats as she imagines her touch is Klaus'.

He replies with a photo of his own of his own a few moments later, of his tense abs and his hand stroking his cock. Caroline swallows harshly, touching herself with more purpose, rubbing her clit directly. Her muscles twitch and her eyes are just beginning to roll into the back of her head, the rush building, when her phone buzzes. She whines in frustration, reaching out to tap the screen back to life.

**Klaus [12:23 AM]:** Don't come, Caroline. I want to see it.

Caroline lets out another noise, pouts at being thwarted and slumping back into the seat. She lightens her motions until they're a tease once more, fighting the urge to let go and chase an orgasm.

Klaus really knew her _too_ well.

* * *

It's still dark when she's awoken. Klaus is trying to be quiet, gathering his discarded clothes. "Mmm," she manages, her voice scratchy, "What time's your flight?"

Caroline stretches as he walks towards her, her muscles deliciously sore. She's naked and she turns onto her back, reaching up to turn on the lamp. She winces at the bright light and doesn't bother to pull the sheet up to cover her breasts. From the feel of them there'll be a mark or two left from his mouth, a faint redness from his stubble. She'd weathered a speculative eyebrow raise or two in the makeup chair when her wardrobe called for her to show some skin before. She could do it again though she fully expected the speculation to turn to interrogation if her plan worked out.

Assuming Klaus agreed.

He traces the slope of her breast with the back of his fingers and her nipple tightens in reaction. Caroline moans, arching her back up into his touch. "Don't start something you can't finish."

Klaus pulls back regretfully, bending to brush his mouth over his. She gets a faint hint of toothpaste before he pulls back. "Sorry, love. I've got to be at the airport in less than an hour."

"Rain check?" she offers hopefully.

He smiles softly, "Definitely. Sorry to have woken you up, sweetheart. I know you're less than fond of mornings."

"Because they're evil," Caroline mutters. She clears her throat, a tinge of nerves starting up. "But I'm glad you did. I need a favor."

Klaus brow lifts and he sits on the bed. "Go on."

"Well…" Caroline starts hesitantly, sitting up. "I was talking to Kat. About us. And how to let people know about us. I figured we'd start kinda subtle."

Klaus' lips have curled into a smirk and he looks _very_ pleased. "Did you now? And what did you have in mind?"

She reaches for the wrist, toys with the watch he always wears. It's a custom thing, she knows. A birthday gift from his agent Marcel a few years ago. She'd considered a necklace but had ultimately decided on something more visible. "Can I borrow this? I'll be photographed at the airport and Kat thinks it'll be enough to get our Twitter stalkers talking. I'll get asked about my love life as per usual during this week's press and I'll drop some coy hints. It'll get the ball rolling. The cast and crew Christmas party is in a couple weeks and Kat figured we could leave it together, maybe drop a few photos on out Instagrams over the holidays, and make it obvious that you're in Virginia with me."

Klaus' expression has remained unchanged, and Caroline is relieved that he seems to be onboard. He had been pushing for them to go public, stating his case numerous times once it became clear that she wanted to continue once they began shooting the show again. He'd backed off lately and she'd been a teeny bit worried that her hesitance had made him reconsider. He takes the watch off without a word, "That's certainly a detailed plan."

Caroline bites her lip. "I like details."

He grabs her hand and kisses her wrist before he clasps his watch around it. "I know. And I think it's brilliant. We'll figure everything out when you get home, yeah?"

She drops back to the bed as he gets to his feet, still grasping her hand, "Yeah. I fly back in four days. Wanna get a late dinner?"

He smiles down at her, and gives her hand a squeeze. He reaches for the heavy quilt they'd kicked off last night and throws it over her. "How about I cook? You can come straight to my house from the airport."

Caroline yawns and pulls the blankets up to her chin, "I'll need to stop by my house and get some things. I didn't pack anything extra."

"Perhaps you should just bring some extra things. I have plenty of space in my closet."

She mumbles an affirmative, makes him promise to call her when he lands. Klaus strokes his hand over her hair one last time before he leaves.

It's only later over breakfast that Caroline realizes that they'd kind of jumped over another relationship milestone and that she'd barely noticed. She chewed her toast as the revelation rolled around in her mind, wondering if it should bother her.

Klaus called before she could decide and they talked about his flight and her schedule over the next few days. Caroline was smiling when she hung up and she decided that it didn't matter if it _should_ bother her. It didn't. At all.

Moving forward felt good, not the least bit scary. Caroline suspected it would only get better. What kind of idiot would let _that_ bother her?


	67. Love In An Elevator

**Love In An Elevator**

**(Prompt:****KC + "your doctor made you take the elevator because you needed to learn how to deal with small spaces and now it's stuck. please don't die on me." Au. Title from the Aerosmith song of the same name. Rated T.)**

"Best movie ever!" Caroline sang, swinging her arms as she dodged puddles on the sidewalk.

Klaus, just behind her, agreed though he was less enthusiastic. "It was excellent. Far better than I expected."

She shot a playful glare over her shoulder, "It's just me, Klaus. No need to pretend that you're too cool for Harry Potter."

Klaus laughed as he held the door to his building open for her then set his hand on her lower back. He used gentle pressure to guide her to the left, in the direction of the stairs, but Caroline dug her heels in, forcing them to pause. She'd kinda been dreading this part.

Klaus shot her a curious look, "Problem? Did you forget something in the car?"

Caroline shook her head and avoided his eyes, "No. I want to take the elevator."

Klaus' immediate reply was an incredulous laugh and an attempt to keep moving in the direction of the stairwell. "Funny, sweetheart."

"Klaus," Caroline complained, grabbing his arm and tugging him to face her. "I'm serious."

He studied her, head tipped to the side. "I've known you for years, Caroline. You've never _wanted_ to take the elevator. You _hate_ elevators."

True, though it wasn't just elevators. It was all small spaces. She'd even had issues with her cramped college dorm room, had kept the window thrown wide open and the door propped open whenever her roommate wasn't around in order to deal with the suffocating, walls closing in, feeling that often crept up on her.

It dated back to her childhood, a game of hide and seek gone horribly awry. Elena had forgotten she was supposed to be _finding_ Caroline, had wandered off to play with one of the Salvatores. Typical of her, a habit that had only gotten worse when they'd all been in their teens and Elena had insisted she was in love with both of them.

That day Caroline had eventually gotten bored in the dusty crawl space in The Gilbert's basement that she'd chosen to hide in. But, when she'd tried to get out, she hadn't been able to lift the door. She'd freaked out, pounded on the door until her hands ached but it had been an agonizingly long wait until she'd been released. Jeremy had lifted the door, looking bewildered by Caroline's teary face. He had apparently been rummaging through the boxes of old toys in the basement looking for something and, not knowing Caroline had been there, had left them scattered around the basement, blocked the door with one, and gone to get a snack. He'd apologized but Caroline hadn't been in any frame of mind to hear it, had slapped his half eaten sandwich from his hand and had stormed home.

Being enclosed had been a no go since then.

She lifted her chin and met Klaus' gaze stubbornly so he'd know she was committed to this, "I've decided that it's time to get over it. I've been pricing out plane tickets. I want to _finally_ go to Europe this summer."

He still looked skeptical, "Are you certain, sweetheart? Do you remember what happened the last time we were in an elevator together?"

Caroline winced, because it hadn't been her best moment. She'd barely known Klaus then. They'd been partnered for a project and Caroline had been thrilled that he was actually a) smart and b) willing to do his fair share of work. They'd started to get closer after she'd met up with him one evening to get some work done while seething about a stupid fight she'd had with her then boyfriend.

Klaus, up until that point, hadn't been especially open but he _was_ perceptive. He'd prodded at her, subtle inquiries dressed up as taunts, until she's exploded and word vomited her relationship woes all over him.

He'd listened patiently, agreed that yes, it wasn't completely unreasonable to expect her boyfriend to express an interest in her life, and not just getting her clothes off. Then he'd suggested they get drunk.

It had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship that had gone strong for six years now.

Mostly.

They'd crossed the line into more than friends territory exactly twice. But they didn't really talk about those _incidents_.

At the very beginning of their friendship, when they'd just been getting to know one another, they'd ended up at a pub just off campus sharing a table in the corner. That first night Klaus had nursed a beer while Caroline had downed a number of shots of tequila and a couple of fruity concoctions that tasted delicious and packed a punch. He'd managed to make her forget her boyfriend woes pretty quickly. By the time they'd left the bar she'd been slurring and stuttering and Klaus hadn't been entirely sure about which dorm building she'd called home. He'd half carried her back to his apartment (and had later mocked her about how she'd apparently rhapsodized about how delicious he'd smelled. Caroline maintained that since she didn't _remember_ it hadn't happened) planning on letting her sleep off the liquor.

Unfortunately, he hadn't known about her phobia. It wasn't really the kind of thing she led with, hating how she just couldn't seem to get over it.

Caroline had been too out of it to register that they were walking into an elevator, had only realized it when she felt that swooping feeling in her already queasy stomach as the car began to ascend. She'd frozen and backed into a wall, groping desperately for the railing because her legs had felt like jelly. She'd sucked in a deep breath that she'd been unable to expel through a throat that felt like it was closing in. Klaus had asked her what was wrong, growing alarmed when she'd been unresponsive. She'd managed to slap her palm against the elevator wall and, thankfully, he'd gotten the hint hit the button for the next floor before jabbing the door open button frantically. Caroline had lunged for the door as soon as it had opened the tiniest amount, her drunkenness and her panic conspiring to make her extra clumsy. She'd stumbled, ended up sprawled on the scratchy carpet in the hallway. She hadn't even cared though, had closed her eyes and breathed deeply now that she finally felt like she _could_.

Klaus hadn't rushed her, had sat down next to her and rubbed her arm. She'd been mortified once she'd become more aware of her surroundings. And her audience. She'd pushed herself up, offered him a shaky smile. She'd been about to attempt a joke but Klaus had spoken, "Not a fan of elevators, I'm guessing?" He'd been completely casual about it, hadn't looked at her like she was crazy or weak.

"Among other things," Caroline had admitted. "It's stupid, but…"

He'd cut her off, "Nonsense. There are far odder phobias, I'm sure. It's nothing to be ashamed of and I'll never subject you to one again, love. I promise."

He'd kept his word in the years since, had never complained no matter how many flights of stairs she'd made him climb. They'd taken road trips together, necessitated by Caroline's inability to fly and Caroline had always apologized for the inconvenience, offered to just drive herself, but Klaus had never allowed that. Claimed he'd enjoy hours and hours in a car with her far more than he'd enjoy being crammed into a plane next to a stranger. He'd spent some time travelling before college, had jetted off for a couple weeks a few times since. He spoke of the experiences with great fondness and Caroline had always pumped him for more details, poured over his sketches and pictures with hungry eyes, a tiny spark of something like envy sitting heavy in her chest.

She'd decided that it was time to stop wishing she could do something and actually _do_ it. A ton of research had led her to a therapist that specialized in claustrophobia. After a few sessions she had a list of things to try and this was one of them. Her therapist had cautioned her about doing it alone, said she should have someone she trusted with her in case she got overwhelmed. Klaus was her person. "I _do_ remember what happened the last time we were in an elevator together. Which is why I'm asking you to do this with me now. You've already seen me freak out and you still wanted to be my friend, so…"

Klaus relented, "If you're certain. Do you want to take this slow? Maybe just do the one level?"

That probably would have been the smart play but Caroline had always been an overachiever. She shakes her head. "Nope. We're gonna do the six up to your place. I'm probably going to pass out on your couch afterwards but you already promised to cook me dinner and you always nag me about how I chop anyway so I won't feel bad about not helping."

He sighed, his trepidation clear, and turned them around. "I'm tempted to argue but you're annoyingly stubborn."

Caroline elbowed him, "Pot meet kettle."

She was trying to exude confidence but as they drew closer to the metal doors at the other end of the hallway Caroline's heart rate began to pick up. She took a long breath in through her nose, counted to three as she held in, then slowly exhaled through her mouth. Klaus eyed her with concern. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I can do this."

Still, she groped for his hand, threaded her fingers through his and squeezed. Klaus didn't protest, returned the gentle pressure she'd exerted. She reached out with a shaky hand to press the button, shifted restlessly as they waited for the doors to open. She crossed the fingers one her free hand and hoped that no one would be on it when it came.

It was one thing for Klaus to see her like this, he'd seen her in all sorts of less than calm cool and collected states throughout the years. A stranger was a different story. "Distract me," Caroline murmured, eyes glued to the lit up strip of floor numbers above the elevator. "Please."

He hummed contemplatively, "Where do you want to go first?" he asked.

Caroline was momentarily confused, "Huh?"

"The plane tickets you've been researching."

"Oh! I honestly can't decide. The pro con lists are getting a little out of control. I was going to pick your brain tonight."

"Feel free. When were you planning on going?"

"July. Just after your birthday. I was even thinking that you might like to come? If you can finagle the time off work. I was going to make your plane ticket your present since you're freaking impossible to shop for."

At that Klaus turned towards her, brows high. "I'm sure I can manage it. And I would love to, Caroline."

Caroline grinned, and bounced on her toes, excitement growing. "Awesome. I'm going to drive you nuts with itineraries now. Be prepared."

"I look forward to it. I…"

Klaus's next statement was cut off by a ding, the doors sliding open immediately after. Caroline stiffened, her hand tightening around Klaus'. He remained silent, waiting for her to make the next move. She did another round or the breathing exercises her therapist had recommended before taking a tentative step inside the car. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt Klaus step in beside her. She heard him hit the buttons, the quiet whoosh that signaled the doors closing. "Are you alright," he asked softly. "I couldn't live with myself if you died in my elevator, you know."

She managed a weak laugh, "Please. You couldn't live without me, period."

The elevator lurched and Caroline jumped, pressing herself closer to Klaus' side. "Very true," he agreed. "Shall I continue trying to be distracting?"

She nodded a touch frantically and Klaus made a noise low in his throat. "Promise you won't kill me later?" he asked, sounding resigned.

Caroline had no idea what he was talking about and she turned to ask him to clarify. The words die in her throat when Klaus reached for her and slid a hand underneath her hair. He crowded her into the wall, his body firm along the length of hers and pressed their foreheads together. "Okay?" he asked.

Caroline nodded immediately, tilted her head and brushed her lips against his. Klaus, she knew, was an excellent kisser.

The first time they'd slept together they'd been a year out of college. Caroline had been freshly dumped, frustrated with her crappy entry level position, and in need of a release. She'd blurted out a less than graceful proposition and Klaus had only taken a moment to blink in shock before he'd been on her. They'd promised, as their clothes had hurriedly fallen and their hands had eagerly roamed, that it was a one-time thing, a little stress relief between friends that didn't mean anything, and that it wouldn't make things awkward between them.

He'd casually joked that they should make it a regular thing over pancakes the next morning but Caroline had laughed the suggestion off, certain he'd been messing with her.

She thought about it afterwards. More often than Caroline would ever admit. Memories of his hands or the way he'd tasted. The sound of her name pushed out from between Klaus' clenched teeth when she'd rocked above him. Whether it was by her own hand or someone else's those were the images she reached for when she was just on the edge of climax and needed a final push.

The second time had been nearly two years ago after Klaus had returned from his eldest brother's wedding. Caroline knew he was estranged from his parents, had gradually learned the details as Klaus had come to trust her. He'd been dreading the trip and the obligatory family gatherings for weeks and Caroline had cursed her inability to accompany him. She'd trekked over to his apartment as soon as she'd gotten off work, a bottle of Klaus' favorite bourbon and takeout in tow. He'd been happy to see her, had opened the door mussed from a post flight nap, and welcomed her into his place.

She'd pressed for details about the wedding but he'd been subdued, a little morose and her concern had grown as he'd picked at her food. Finally she hadn't been able to take any more, had grabbed his arm and urged him to talk to her. Klaus had shaken his head, muttered that he didn't want to talk, and pulled her into his lap before she could say anything else. He'd kissed her tentatively, his uncertainty that she would accept him obvious in the way he'd kept his hands still and soft on her waist. Caroline had been confused but had allowed the kiss, sensing that he needed it from her. He'd moaned when she'd deepened it, finally slipping his hands under her shirt.

They'd taken their time that night, shed their clothes slowly as they stumbled to his bed, their touches searching and reverent. He'd watched her carefully as he'd built her up with his fingers, later pinned her hands with his when he'd slid inside of her. He'd urged her to look at him constantly, his eyes a confusing mix of emotions, awe and determination and fleeting glimpses of warmer, _deeper_, feelings Caroline was certain she was imagining.

Afterwards, sweaty and spent, she'd draped herself across his chest and asked him if he felt better. His laugh had rumbled through where they'd been pressed together and then Klaus had begun to talk, confessed that his mother had told him that his biological father had contacted her, that he was interested in getting to know Klaus now that he was an adult.

They'd discussed it in quiet tones, the dark making the words easier for him. She'd fallen asleep listening to his voice, his hands in her hair, cozy and content.

The next morning he'd made her breakfast, hadn't mentioned what had transpired between them. Caroline had followed his lead, pushed down the questions she had about the things he'd made her feel. Neither had broached the subject afterwards, shifting back into their normal routines, something Caroline privately lamented.

Caroline forgot _where_ she was as Klaus took her invitation with alacrity and returned her tentative brush with a surer one of his own. His tongue teased the seam of her lips, coaxing her to open as his free arm banded around her waist. Caroline sighed and clutched at his shoulders, urging him harder against her. The kiss heated, grew rough when Caroline rolled her hips against his. He tugged on her hair, pulling his lips from hers as he dove lower, his stubble scraping against the sensitive skin of her throat as he sought out spots that made her moan. She lost track of time and the fact that she was trapped in a tiny metal box o' death, too focused on the sensations Klaus was supplying her with.

She was a moron for waiting years to do this.

She didn't hear the doors open but Klaus did. He tore himself away from her with a pained noise. He reached out to prevent the doors from closing on them, his eyes steady on her face. His voice was gravelly when he spoke, "Congratulations. You rode an elevator without having a panic attack."

Caroline licked her lips, watched with interest as Klaus' eyes dropped to follow the motion. She could see his hand twitch, like he was fighting to keep from reaching for her. "What was that?" she asked.

To his credit, Klaus didn't try to play dumb. "That was me distracting you."

"By kissing me?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Klaus answered. "Do you disagree?"

Caroline did not. At all. But she wasn't willing for this to be like the last time, something they brushed under the rug and ignored. "Was it only a distraction?" she pressed. "Or was it something you wanted?"

Klaus swallowed hard and Caroline clenched her fists tight to stop herself from reaching out to follow the motion with her fingertips. "Something I wanted," he confessed. "Something I've _always_ wanted."

Caroline wanted to grin, was tempted to yank him back into her and kiss him again. However, they were still in the elevator and the things she had in mind, after the kissing, did not require an audience. Would be easier on a horizontal surface. She took his hand again and walked in the direction of Klaus' place. He followed, snuck glances at her as they made their way silently down the hall. She stopped at his door, tilted her head to indicate he should open it. As he fumbled with his lock she propped her shoulder on the wall next to him, adopted a casual tone. "That elevator trip went well, but I'm totally going to need more practice. Pretty sure if we tried to do _that_ on a plane trip across the Atlantic our fellow passengers would not be cool with it."

A smirk curled Klaus' lips though he kept his attention on his keys, "Practice, hmm? I suppose I could be persuaded."

He got the door open, gestured for her to go first. Caroline spun, held his gaze as she slowly unbuttoned her jacket. "Luckily, I can be _very_ persuasive."

Klaus' response, probably something infuriatingly smart ass-y, never made it out of his mouth because Caroline didn't stop at her outerwear. Her jacket hit the floor, followed by her sweater. Klaus' eyes went wide and his mouth fell open as he shoved his door closed. She was just going for the button on her jeans when Klaus moved, laying his hands on her shoulders and sweeping her bra straps aside.

He spun her around and Caroline leaned back into him, moaning when his hands delved into the cup of her bra and his teeth dragged down her neck. "Take your shirt off," she demanded, and Klaus hurriedly complied.

Caroline quickly forgot just who was supposed to be persuading who. She forgot about her fears, the fact that small spaces and elevators were even a thing no longer important. Her senses were filled with Klaus and little else mattered.

Later, over a hastily composed dinner, one they only bothered with out of necessity (passing out was not an option – not when they couldn't keep their hands to themselves) Klaus suggested they start with Paris.


	68. Ready To Roar

**Ready To Roar**

**(Prompts: kc + "We've been ditched by our respective dates and have no one to kiss at midnight, what the hell, it's New Year's Eve, let's make out" plus "ok so i found a link list? from i dunno how long ago but if you could 30 + 59" which is riding and wall!sex. Title from "1999" by Prince. SMUT).**

If, as the old saying went, the way a girl rung in the New Year was a glimpse into how she would spend the rest of that year Caroline was so screwed.

Currently she was alone in the Damon Salvatore's kitchen. Stefan, her date for the evening, was busy in one of the guest bedrooms consoling Elena who was in the midst of her latest relationship crisis. She and Damon had had their eleventy billionth fight but Caroline was certain they'd be sucking face and grossing her out again before the ball dropped. The small seed of a crush she'd been nurturing on her old friend had _definitely_ been suffocated. She only hoped Stefan was smart enough to stay out of her way until she was no longer pissed off about it.

She pours herself another glass of champagne and consoles herself with the fact that at least she looks fucking fantastic. It was a small comfort when it looked like Caroline was in for another year of too little sex and too much alcohol but she'd take it. To think she'd almost passed on that Boxing Day deal on a fancy new vibrator. Caroline praises herself for her foresight because it looked like her new toy was going to come in handy.

Pun _not_ intended.

A voice startles her out of her morose thoughts and liquid sloshes over her fingers when she jumps, "Mind sharing that, love? If I'd have known Damon was going to be stingy with the proper liquor I'd have brought my own."

She turns, bringing her fingers up to her mouth. Classy? Not really but there was no need to waste perfectly good champagne. Caroline eyes the guy who'd snuck up on her, taking in the full lips and stubbled jaw. Stefan had pointed him out earlier when he'd arrived with several other people. His siblings and various dates, if she recalls correctly, but she's blanking on his name. A shame, because he's pretty hot and is watching her suck her index finger with a heavy gleam of interest in his dark blue eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe this party wouldn't be a _total_ bust. This stranger, and his accent, could _really_ liven it up.

Wordlessly she hands the bottle over and does a little ogling of her own. His hands are very nice, she notes, as the long fingers of one hand wrap around the bottle and the other handles a champagne glass delicately. "I'm Caroline," she offers, once he's finished.

He smirks, "I'm aware." He cranes his neck and Caroline follows his line of sight, watches as he offers a jaunty wave to a blonde who'd been glowering at them. "My sister," he explains. "She has a bit of a thing for the younger Salvatore. Cursed your name most colorfully when we arrived and saw you in his company."

Caroline snorts, takes another sip of her champagne. "Well, she's welcome to him. Probably destined to be disappointed as Stefan likes dark haired damsel types and weird love triangles with his creepy brother."

The guy looks down, doing an awful job of hiding his smile. "His loss, then. Because you look ravishing in that dress." Caroline's left blinking, both at the compliment and at the heated look he sends her way. He offers her his hand before she can formulate a reply, "I'm Klaus. In the interest of full disclosure I should tell you that I also arrived with a date this evening. However it quickly became clear that she's more interested in my brother than I am strictly comfortable with. I excused myself and she's scarcely noticed so I do believe there will be no second date."

He doesn't seem the least bit upset about it so she thinks she might as well up her flirting game a little. "What, not into weird love triangles?" Caroline jokes. "I have no idea who your brother is but I feel like it's unlikely that he's creepier than Damon Salvatore."

"He isn't, not even on his worst day, but we went down that road when we were very young and exceedingly stupid. I have no desire to travel it again."

Caroline shifts, feeling awkward. And here she thought she'd grown out of the chronic foot in mouth syndrome that had afflicted her as a teen. "Yeesh. I'm sorry. I really was just kidding."

Klaus smiles and shakes his head, slides slightly closer until he's leaning against the counter next to her. "Nothing to apologize for. If anything I'm sorry to have derailed this conversation. I am usually far more charming than this."

She finds herself returning his smile, "Oh really? Is that why you came over here? To _charm_ me?"

"Obviously," he replies, without a hint of embarrassment. "Was that not clear?"

Caroline's grateful she hadn't had any champagne in her mouth because Klaus might have ended up wearing it. He was certainly direct, something she couldn't say she was used to. But she doesn't hate it. She tucks a stray curl behind her ear, "I don't know," she teases, "most guys would've followed that compliment up with something about how great my dress would look on their floor."

"Amateurs," Klaus mutters dismissively.

Caroline agrees, and likely would have immediately walked away when fed that line. However, she can't resist pushing him further. She arches an eyebrow, "So you're telling me you have no interest in seeing me naked?"

Again, he surprises her, meeting her eyes steadily. "I could try to claim such a thing but I think you and I would both know that it was a lie."

Caroline nods, conceding the point. Mentally awards him a few others for his continuing commitment to _not_ bullshitting her. She tips her head towards the sliding door that leads to the patio. A few people are milling about outside, there's a fire going and comfy chaises dotted around it. "Do you want to come hang out with me? The less annoying people are outside from the looks of it. No offense to your sister, of course."

"None taken," he assures her, setting a hand low on her spine. "Rebekah is plenty annoying, trust me."

Caroline rolls her eyes but allows herself be guided outside. She catches Bonnie's eye as they step into the backyard, shrugs in response to the interested glances her friend darts between her and Klaus. Bonnie's eyes narrow, a look that Caroline knows means she'll be in for an interrogation later. Not that Caroline really minds. Bonnie and Elena have totally been supplying the lion's share of the naughty gossip lately. Caroline's got her fingers crossed that she'll be able to supply a juicy nugget or two the next time they get brunch. Enzo distracts Bonnie, leaning down to whisper something in her ear and Caroline glances around for a free spot. She pouts a little when she can't find one but Klaus evidently has a plan. "I'll find up a place to sit," he tells her quietly. "Just give me a moment."

Caroline watches with great interest as he strides purposefully over to a couple on the far side of the yard. He's soon crouched next to their lounge, engrossed in a heated conversation with a dark haired man. Their back and forth is brief and ends with Klaus handing over a set of keys. The guy he'd been talking to is on his feet immediately after, dragging a giggly petite brunette with him.

Honestly, Caroline's kind of impressed.

She's been to many a cookout at Damon's so she makes a beeline to the cabinet that holds the extra blankets and pulls one out.

Just one. Sharing is caring, right?

She makes her way over to the chaise Klaus had appropriated. He's stretched out on it and he pats the narrow space next to him in invitation. Caroline slips off her heels before easing herself down next to him, shaking out the blanket and spreading it over them. Klaus slips an arm around her shoulder, "May I?" he asks.

Caroline nods and they shift together. His arm slips lower, a hand ending up around her hip. His fingers draw light patterns over the sequins of her dress and Caroline draws her knees up, rolling slightly onto her side so she can look at him. "Question. Who'd you steal this spot from? And what was with the keys you had to cough up?"

"My brother, Kol. He's just visiting for the holidays and I offered him the run of my apartment to entertain the young lady he was with."

"AKA your date? That's… generous."

He shakes his head, "No, that's another brother. Elijah never would have taken such a deal. He'd also not have deigned to attempt to seduce a woman in such a casual setting."

Caroline wrinkles her nose, "Siblings seem so complicated."

His laugh shakes her gently, "Ah. You get used to it. I'm guessing you're an only child?"

"Basically. I do have a stepsister. She's pretty cool but we were older when our dads got together. Never had to live together so I don't think it's the same thing."

He makes an agreeing noise, "Yes, it's the forced proximity that really teaches you how to drive one another insane, I think. Something any good sibling learns to excel at."

"So what you're saying is that you're far from an innocent party?"

"I've yet to lie to you, sweetheart and I'm not about to start now."

That, Caroline realizes, is far from the worst way to begin a relationship.

* * *

She loses track of time, curled up with Klaus, jumping from topic to topic. It's an excellent conversation. They agree on enough things that Caroline doesn't ever feel the need to excuse herself. She _does_ get a little heated at when it becomes clear that he's one of those snobs that are completely dismissive of pop music as a genre. He's totally wrong, of course, and Caroline insists that she's going to make him a playlist and that he _will_ listen to it. Klaus agrees with minimal arm twisting and Caroline's mollified enough to let the subject drop.

The disagreements are fun too, she has to admit. Once upon a time she might have dreamed of a guy who would bend over backwards to cater to her every whim but she'd long since grown out of that. Caroline liked challenges, liked to _be_ challenged. She'd be bored inside of a week with someone who let her walk all over them.

Klaus is _far_ from boring.

Eventually she notices people beginning to trickle back indoors, hears murmurs that it's nearing midnight. She cranes her neck to see inside the house, can see people milling about through the windows, donning sparkly paper crowns and brandishing noisemakers. She turns back to Klaus, "Do you want to go inside?"

He makes no move to get up, "I'm perfectly content to stay here, if you are. I'd wager we'll hear the countdown just fine."

Caroline considers. She's warm, the combined heat of her and Klaus' bodies in their shared blanket more than enough to fight the chill in the air. She finds the idea of cramming into Damon's living room, rubbing elbows with her few friends and many acquaintances, completely unappealing. She offers him a smile, "I think I'm good right here."

His grip on her tightens, and he trains watchful eyes on her face. Caroline makes no move to squirm away. Her hand's been resting lightly on his chest and she moves it lower, grips a fistful of his shirt as she slides a thigh over his. They're quiet for several long moments. Caroline's nerves begin to flutter in anticipation, the air between them growing heated.

He's going to kiss her, or she's going to kiss him. Caroline suspects _that_ will only be the beginning.

Faint sounds from inside the house drift over but barely register. Caroline jolts when the noise rises, startled by the many voices shouting, "Ten!" in unison.

"Sorry," she tells him.

Klaus doesn't reply, rolls until he's entirely on his side. He reaches up to cup her face, a thumb stroking along the line of her jaw.

Caroline doesn't bother to wait for the countdown to be over. She's always thought delayed gratification was overrated. She tilts her head, presses her mouth over his, gently sucking his lower lip between hers. A tiny groan rumbles out of Klaus and his hand shifts to cradle her head, pulling her closed insistently. She sucks in a breath as he takes the kiss deeper, meets every stroke of his tongue with one of her own. She tries to hurry him, her blood rushing in her ears, but Klaus resists, keeping things soft and exploratory. His lips drift from hers and the sound that comes from low in her throat is a protest, one she bites back when she feels him nip at the hinge of her jaw. He buries his face in her throat and she can feel him smile against her skin. It's still there when he pulls back. "Happy New Year," he tells her.

Caroline echoes the sentiment, eyes on his lips, wet and fuller from her kisses. She's not sure if she likes that he'd paid attention to what people were doing inside when she'd been pretty lost in what was happening between them. It was kind of a blow to her ego and Caroline narrows her eyes. Klaus' widen in response but she shoves him before he can ask what's wrong. She throws a leg over him, pushing herself up so she can loom over him. A slight adjustment of her hips and she's smiling in satisfaction as Klaus' head digs into the cushions behind him.

Seems like he was affected by her after all.

She moves again, a languid roll of her hips that rubs her barely covered center against the straining line of his cock. Klaus' hands latch onto her in an attempt to still her but, unfortunately for him, she's got more leverage. Another grind and he curses, sitting up and shoving his hands in her hair to tip her head back. She continues rocking against him, searching for that perfect angle. She moans when she finds it and Klaus swallows the sound with his mouth.

This kiss is wild, harsh and needy, and Caroline whimpers into it winding her hands into his curls. His hands are fighting their way under the blanket that's bunched around her thighs and he groans when he finds bare skin. His fingers dig in and Caroline pulls back. "Touch me," she demands, tugging at his hair, still moving, riding him through their clothes. It won't take much for her to come, she knows. A few touches to her clit preferably his though she's not opposed to taking matters into her own hands.

Klaus' face looks strained and his hands stay put. "Not here," he spits out. It doesn't sound like he's any happier than she is that he's putting on the brakes. "We'll be interrupted and I want to take my time with you, Caroline."

She shivers, finds that she has no objections to moving this to a more private location. "Did you drive? I didn't and it'll take forever to get a cab here."

"I did. Do you have anyone you need to say goodbye to or can we duck out the back gate?"

She shakes her head, already climbing off of him. Her body protests, she'd teased herself to the point of aching, but she ignores it. "I'll text Bon. She'll understand." Caroline yanks her skirt down, pressing her thighs together hoping to dull the throbbing at their apex.

Klaus rises and stoops to collect her shoes, his movements jerky, "_Please_ tell me you don't live far. And that you live alone."

"Ten minutes. And yes, yes I do."

Klaus hands her heels off, spins her with his hands on her hips and runs his lips over the nape of her neck. "Good. _Very_ good. I intend to hear you call my name, Caroline. _Loudly_."

She shivers. He says it like he means it and Caroline would guess he's the type to keep those sorts of vows. Still, she can't resist taunting him. It was just how she was programmed, "Promises, promises," she says breezily. "I hope you're not all talk."

The hint of his teeth on her skin is a warning and her eyes flutter shut as he crowds her. "Oh, you're going to regret that one, love," Klaus drawls, raspy and low as his hand runs possessively up her front. He skims over her breasts before the warmth of him falls away entirely. Caroline almost stumbles. "I'm going to have you _begging_," he tells her, urging her to start walking.

Caroline briefly wondered what it said about her that she was looking forward to it. A thought that was quickly chased away as his hand tangles with hers as they raced for the back gate.

Nothing that made her feel like this, excited – in more than a desperately turned on way – and giddy and anxious in the best way, could possibly be bad.

* * *

He presses her up against her front door as soon as it closes behind him. His eyes are dark, cheeks flushed as he stares at her hungrily.

Maybe she shouldn't have teased him while he was driving but she hadn't been able to resist the sight of his white knuckled grip on the wheel as she'd whispered what she wanted to do to him as she'd stroked him through his jeans.

"Later," he tells her, tone strained, "we'll do all the things you spoke of." Caroline reaches for him, intent on persuading him that they could totally do them _now_, but Klaus catches her hands. He lifts them upwards, curls her fingers along the top of her door frame. He smiles, slow and sensual. Her breath hitches as his palms glide down her arms. "Will you keep them there for me, Caroline? I promise it'll be worth it."

Yeah. This was off to an excellent start.

Caroline nods eagerly, flushing at Klaus' satisfied expression. His hands cup her breasts, thumbs finding her nipples through the fabric of her dress. They firm into tight peaks and Klaus' touch roughens. Caroline's head thunks against the door as she moans. His head dips, pressing a kiss to the skin above her neckline and Caroline curses herself for picking something cut high at her throat. He chuckles, swipes his tongue along the top of the fabric. "Patience," he murmurs, right before he drops to his knees. He inches her dress up her thighs _far_ too slowly and Caroline swallows hard, widening her legs and leaning more of her weight against the door.

Klaus makes a noise of approval, "Good," he breathes. His mouth grazes the top of her thigh and she tenses, biting her lip to hold in a moan. Klaus catches her eyes, his smile predatory. "None of that, love. I want to _hear_ you, remember?" He watches her face as he slips his hand between her thighs, tracing her through the damp lace. "I want you to tell me what you like."

Well, Caroline's never been shy. "More," she hisses.

One of his eyebrows creeps up and he leans forward, repeats his tentative brush with his mouth. Caroline shifts, balancing her weight on one leg and draping her leg over his shoulder. He licks softly and her heel digs into his back. It's not nearly enough, the sensation of his tongue through the fabric of her panties a cruel tease of what she knows it could be.

"I'm waiting," he murmurs, a tinge of amusement obvious.

Caroline groans, frustrated. "I want more," she growls. "I want your mouth on me."

"I do believe I said something about begging," Klaus reminds her, sounding smug.

Caroline clamps her mouth shut, shakes her head stubbornly. Klaus is undeterred, his eyes lighting up challengingly. He sits up straighter, her leg lift higher, giving him better access to her body. Exactly what he'd wanted, judging by the greedy way his eyes drink her in. She can feel her panties sticking to her and this time when Klaus bends his head he tugs them aside. She wants to shout in triumph but the feeling is soon dashed. He strokes over her entrance, slipping upwards to brush over her clit. He touches her softly, gives her only a few light circles before his hand is gone. He kisses her stomach, nips at her belly button, no trace of urgency in his movements. She squirms against the door, her body screaming for more.

His mouth has wandered over to her hipbone, his hands running down the outside of her thighs.

Fuck it, she thinks. Payback was a bitch and she hoped Klaus was ready to meet her when Caroline took her turn.

"Klaus, please," she forces out, voice high and trembling. "Please please give me more."

He's yanking her underwear down before the last word's left her mouth, steadying her as she kicks them away. Then her thigh is back in place and his mouth is _exactly_ where she needs it. She moans when he swipes his tongue across her most sensitive bundle of nerves. Klaus is evidently done with the teasing, and he doesn't hold back. His lips are soon wrapped around her clit, two fingers buried inside of her clenching body. He doesn't seem to mind that she moves with him, writhing against his mouth. Her legs shake as she begins to climb and she _does_ get loud.

Caroline has no idea _what_ she says but she's certain there's more begging. She definitely calls his name.

She's just on the edge when he surges to his feet, tension sitting heavy in her belly, muscles pulled taut. She gasps out a garbled protest, gaping at him with something like betrayal. Klaus shakes his head, grasps her head and kisses her fiercely. "You'll come when I'm inside you the first time," he grits out.

As long as she does come, and freaking _soon_, Caroline can roll with that. She fumbles with his belt, fingers numb from her tight grip on the door. "Condom," she says and Klaus goes for his pocket. She gets his pants lowered, shoves his boxer briefs down his hips. Klaus rolls the protection on with shaky hands and helps her hitch her leg around his hips.

She wraps her hand around his cock and guides him to where she wants him. She groans when he hesitates and digs her fingernails into his arms. "This is not the time for slow. I am so close and if you don't…"

Klaus must hear the threat in her tone because his motions firm, He's fully inside of her with _perfect_ one thrust, pulls back and does it again. Caroline mouth falls open on a sigh, clamping down around his length when it's within her. She'd been _so close_ before. Her body strains against his, her back slipping against the door as she rolls her hips. Klaus shudders, working his hand in between them. He finds where they're joined, toys with her clit.

That's all it takes.

Caroline cries out as a wave of pleasure hits her, barely hears the guttural noise Klaus makes as she twines her limbs more tightly around his frame, he moves jerkily, hips rutting against hers prolonging her release and chasing his own. He stiffens as he comes, his weight pinning her to the door.

Neither of them is steady in the aftermath and they sink slowly, ending up sprawled on the floor of her front hallway. Caroline watches as Klaus strips his shirt and sets the discarded condom on top of it. She rakes her eyes over his exposed torso, new interest stirring as she notes the red streaks her nails had left on his biceps even through the fabric he'd worn.

She presses her lips to hold in a laugh as she thinks about how they must look. Klaus' pants remain tangled around his knees, hair sticking up in all sorts of different directions. Her dress is bunched around her waist, and she has no idea where her underwear got tossed.

Klaus has noticed her wandering thoughts and his head tips to the side, "What?" he asks.

Caroline smiles, and shakes her head. "Nothing bad. Just, this isn't how I pictured ending this evening."

He scoffs, and pulls himself to his feet. He kicks off what remains of his clothing without a trace of self-consciousness, not even when Caroline's eyes drop to his stiffening cock. He offers her his hand. She recognizes the glint in his eye. It's a challenge and Caroline knows she won't be able to resist it. Setting her hand in his she's unsurprised when he tugs her to her feet, slipping behind her and searching for the zipper on her dress. The sound it makes as he tugs it down is loud and Caroline tenses in anticipation. She shivers when Klaus kisses the newly exposed skin between her shoulder blades. "Whoever said this evening is over? I am not the least bit tired, are you?"

She shakes her head, reaching up to peel her dress down, "Nope. And I think I'm probably obligated to entertain you. Since you got yourself sexiled to get us a comfy spot by the fire."

"Yes," Klaus says dryly. "You've certainly been acting _obligated_."

Caroline turns back around to face him, taking a step backwards in the direction of her bedroom. She widens her eyes, feigning innocence, "I mean, you're welcome to leave. _Or_ I could give you a tour of my bedroom. Maybe get to a few of those activities I mentioned in the car? You seemed pretty into them…"

She turns, sets a brisk pace, certain that he'll follow her. He's on top of her when they hit her bed, eyes riveted on her breasts.

He quickly robs her of her ability to think clearly but her last fleeting thought echoes the one she'd been having just before Klaus had approached her. Had it only been a few hours ago? Caroline finds it hard to believe. If this was how her new year was going to go, if Klaus was who she was going to spend it with, Caroline was more than fine with that.


	69. Timing Is Everything

**Timing Is Everything**

**(Prompt: "We're both in a bank when it gets robbed and now we're part of a hostage group and while we're stuck here what's your name? Are you single?" AU. Rated T.)**

Klaus shifts impatiently, mentally calculating how quickly he can sprint through the airport if he needs to. And it's looking like he'll have no other option. His eyes make another impatient sweep of the bank, first darting between the two tellers who are working before lifting to check the clock above their heads. He then casts his eyes to who he assumes is a third teller though this one doesn't seem to be doing anything productive. Like helping customers.

Klaus supposes his current situation is his own fault. He _should_ have picked up the Euros he'd ordered yesterday but he'd assumed, obviously incorrectly, that if he got to the bank as soon as it opened he could be in and out and on his way without much delay.

But no, that hadn't happened. He'd been waiting for ten minutes already and there was no end in sight. There had been two people waiting in the vestibule for the bank to open and their business did not appear to be at all quick. Klaus half listens with some sympathy to the pretty blonde teller attempt to explain the nuances of online banking to an elderly woman. Her nameplate says Caroline and Klaus can tell her smile is forced though she remains scrupulously polite. Her brunette co-worker, Bonnie, sifts through a mess of tattered cheques that had been dropped in front of her, mostly ignoring the man leaning casually against her counter and attempting to make conversation of the personal variety. Klaus does his best to keep his obvious ire away from _them_, since they are working, though he amuses himself by sending the odd coldly impatient glare at the other man who remained clicking away at the computer two windows down, avoiding eye contact with Klaus.

He makes a mental note to switch his accounts over to another bank when he returns from his trip. This one quite clearly had no concept of the importance of customer service.

Klaus makes no attempt to supress his sigh of annoyance, letting his foot tap out a staccato rhythm against the polished stone floors. He catches the blonde teller's eye when he glances her way and she offers him an apologetic smile.

Well, at least someone here wasn't _completely_ incompetent.

Klaus hears the door open, several pairs of feet trooping in. He doesn't bother to look behind him, eyes glued to the second hand making a circuit around the clock face. Two more minutes and he'll give up and resign himself to paying the ridiculous fees to make the currency exchange at the airport in Vienna.

He glances at the blonde again only to find her staring behind him, wide eyed and frozen in apprehension. Then he hears a distinctive grinding of metal on metal, a sound he recognizes though it's the sort of thing one generally only heard in movies. Klaus is just beginning to pivot when a gruff voice barks, "Everyone! Put your hands where I can see them! Now!"

He chances a glance over his shoulder, manages to count six men, all armed and dressed in black, faces obscured with ski masks and dark glasses. One of them aims a gun in his direction, nods down to his hands, "Are you hard of hearing? I meant you too. Face the front."

Slowly, Klaus lifts his hands to shoulder level, turning back to see the tellers, and their customers, doing the same, faces etched with varying levels of panic. The old woman looks distinctly unimpressed with one hand held limply at her side while the other one clutches her cane like she'd thinking about swinging it.

The male teller seems to be faring the worst, shaky and beginning to sweat. One of the armed men strides passed Klaus and taps the counter in front of the blonde. "I'm going to need you and your colleagues to come over here. Nice and easy, don't even think about attempting any thrilling heroics. I'd hate to have to ruin your pretty face."

Her eyes narrow at the implied threat but she doesn't flinch away. She turns but is quickly stilled when the man giving the orders slaps his palm down, "Uh uh uh," he admonishes. "Climb the counter. I don't trust you not to do something stupid," he leans towards her lowering his voice in a way that Klaus thinks is supposed to be jovial, "There's always a dumb bitch who tries to run," he says, shaking his head mockingly.

He sees a flash of anger in her eyes. Klaus watches her take a deep breath through her nose and exchange glances with her brunette co-worker who shrugs helplessly. "Yeah, this isn't going to be pretty," she mutters before planting her hands on the counter and boosting herself up. Her knees hit the wood with a smack that sounds painful and she shuffles forward awkwardly. Klaus sees the problem immediately, her slim skirt clings to her thighs, all the way down to her knees, limiting her mobility. She pauses when she's at the front edge, gripping the sides of the teller's windows and considering her options.

The bank robber (because Klaus has connected the dots) huffs impatiently, gesturing for her to hurry up. "Sometime today would be nice," he tells her snidely.

Her eyes spit fire in his direction before she quickly looks away, her lips pressed together to hold in what Klaus assumes is a blistering retort. She leans awkwardly to one side, attempting to swing her legs forward but the space between the partitions is too narrow and she can't manage it. He steps forward without thinking, grasping her hips and pulling. She makes a startled noise and clings to his shoulders and Klaus holds on while she gets her feet under her.

Her shoeless feet, Klaus notes with a hint of amusement, covered only by sheer black nylon.

"Did I say you could move?" the man with the gun snaps.

Klaus turns and regards him calmly. "No, but I do believe your only instruction was to keep my hands visible. Which I did. I simply thought it best to avoid letting the lady crack her head open while she followed your instructions."

Caroline stiffens, the hands that had lingered on his arms tightening. Klaus hears a hoarse laugh, followed by a cough from behind them. The elderly woman, who'd been quietly observing, pipes up, her voice the sort only lifelong smokers can claim, "He's got you there, boy. Nice to see that _some_ young men are still aware of the existence of chivalry."

The man with the gun glares passed them, "Did I _ask_ you, lady?"

"I'm ninety two," the woman tells him disdainfully. "More than old enough to offer my opinions freely, thank you."

He puffs up and steps towards her and Caroline briefly closes her eyes, shifting like she's going to step between them. Klaus grasps at her shirt (he'd honestly bet on the woman and her cane) but another voice, harsh and commanding, breaks over them. "Quit screwing around, Mike. Don't even _think_ about clocking a little old lady. We'll be fucked with every jury in the state once she hobbles up to testify."

Mike (and Klaus isn't precisely an expert but should they really be using names?) whirls, "Jury? Why're you talking about juries? I thought this thing was foolproof."

"Nothing's foolproof," the other man deadpans. "This is _crime_. Might as well cover all our bases. Speaking of, why don't you do your job? Get the zip ties and get the hostages settled. I just sent the others to the back."

Klaus can't make out Mike's expression with his face covered but from the tense set of his shoulders, the jerky way he yanks off his backpack and begins rummaging, Klaus is going to assume that he's not pleased with the way that rank's been pulled. Klaus eyes him critically, notes the lanky frame and lack of hair around his lips. Mike's young, Klaus would guess.

"Everyone in the center of the floor," he orders gruffly.

Klaus waits for the elderly woman to begin to make her way over, releases Caroline so she can follow and brings up the rear. They're joined by the other bank employees and the customer who'd also had the poor luck to choose today to attempt to sort out his finances. Klaus hadn't paid him much mind before but runs his eyes over him now, notes he appears unruffled, almost bored. He nods at Klaus, "Bad day to get an early start wasn't it, mate?"

Mike kicks at the back of his ankle, "No talking. I want you all to empty your pockets. And your purse, lady. I want phones, all your cash, cards, and any jewellery."

Klaus bites his tongue because this really was like something out of an awful action movie. He digs out his wallet and unclasps his watch, watching out of the corner of his eye as Caroline toys with the necklace she's wearing with a wistful expression. She shakes her head, works the closure open, and drops it on the ground. Mike's eyes rove over her, "Your earrings, too."

"These? They're not worth anything. They cost me thirteen bucks."

"Don't care. They'll look real nice on my girl."

Again, Klaus watches with great interest as Caroline seem to fight with herself, gritting her teeth together and dropping the earrings in Mike's outstretched palm. She smiles sweetly, "Tell her they're from H&amp;M. They come in three different colors."

Mike doesn't seem to register the sarcasm, pockets the jewellery before crouching to collect his other spoils. He raises his voice once more when he's vertical, despite the fact that they're all standing in a clump immediately in front of him. "Sit down, hands and ankles together. I want a nice, tidy row. Think y'all can handle that?"

Klaus was really getting sick of Mike.

He does as he's told however, smart enough to know that a petulant child with a gun likely wasn't the sort to make good life choices. Caroline's skirt gives her trouble again and she ends up half in the other teller's lap. "Sorry, Bon," she mutters, low enough not to be heard. "I really shouldn't have tried to look cute for my last day, huh?"

The woman smiles wanly, "Some last day."

They both quit speaking when Mike nears, a bunch of plastic cord in his hands. He starts at one end, working with brusque efficiency, wrapping a tie around each person's ankles and wrists until they were sitting in a row, legs stretched out in front of them, bound hands resting in their laps. He's only got the elderly woman to contend with and she's still standing. She meets Mike's expectant gaze scornfully, "If I get on that floor I'm never getting up so I'm going to have to decline."

Mike throws his hands out impatiently, "Listen, Grams, do you have a death wish?"

She remains unmoved, "Did I mention that I'm _ninety two_?"

Klaus sighs, rolls his head to the side to look at them, letting his gaze rest on the woman's cane, "Do you really think she's going to run?"

"Even if she did," Caroline pipes up, "I'm pretty sure you could catch her."

"At least get the poor woman a chair," the man who'd spoken earlier adds. "Honestly, what would your mum say?"

Mike appears to be floundering and the other person from his group is less then helpful. "They've got a point. I know your mom, remember? She'd give you a hell of a slap if she saw you right now."

With a low noise of frustration Mike stalks off, yanks a chair from the small waiting area and drags it over. "Fine," he exclaims. "Sit, make yourself comfortable. Let's have afternoon tea while we're at it."

"It's 9:30 AM," the second bank robber points out calmly.

Mike shoves the chair away, letting out a harsh laugh. "You know what? I can't do this anymore. I'm going to see what's happening with the vault. _You_ watch the hostages."

From their earlier conversation Klaus suspects that the second man could overrule Mike but perhaps he's also sick of the kid. He waves him away with a bored gesture "Just keep out of the way, will you? Try not to get any extremities blown off."

Mike flips him off as he leaves, disappearing down a hallway. Their new captor is evidently far more easy going, jerks his head in the direction of the remaining chairs. "I'll be just over there. I will be watching you. This is almost over, folks. Don't do anything stupid and mess it up for yourselves." He shoots them one last warning glare before retreating, shifting the seats he has a direct eye line and propping his feet up on another.

Klaus' fellow hostages are quiet for a long moment, the only sounds the light rustling of their clothing as they attempt to get more comfortable. The other teller, Bonnie, is the one to break it, "So… this isn't what I thought I'd be doing today."

"Think of it as an opportunity to spend more time in my company, Bonnie dear," the customer she'd been dealing with says. "I saw you checking me out, don't deny it."

The woman bristles, "I was not, Mr. St. John. _You're_ the one who constantly flirts with _me_."

The man seems unconcerned, "I do, it's true. I do believe you should call me Enzo under the circumstances."

The male bank employee, the one who hadn't managed a peep so far, spoke up, his voice shaky, "Fraternizing with clients is against our code of conduct."

Caroline snorts, "So is fraternizing with your coworkers but that doesn't stop you from going home with Ms. Pierce every time we go out for drinks."

"Caroline," he hisses, red flooding the paleness of his cheeks, "That's not…"

"No one cares, Matt," she says dismissively. "We've all got bigger things to worry about than you screwing your way to a promotion. Like the fact that we're currently _hostages_."

Klaus raises an eyebrow. He'd detected more than a hint of bitterness in that statement and Caroline _had_ said it was her last day.

"Well," Klaus interjects, rationalizing that keeping things calm is probably prudent. He preferred the man with the gun to remain where he was, even if he seemed to be the most relaxed of criminals. "Now that we've making introductions it's probably my turn. I'm Klaus and I'm currently supposed to be on a flight to Austria. I do hope I can convince the airline to refund my money."

"Doubt it," the bank robber calls from his chair. "What's a little hostage situation to a major corporation's bottom line? Nothing, I'd bet. You're screwed, friend."

Ah, so he was a Robin Hood type. Interesting.

"What's in Austria?" Caroline asks curiously.

Klaus shifts slightly, his leg pressing into hers, "That's what I'm going to find out. I did a quick pass through on a backpacking trip post university and I'm going back to do a more thorough tour. I try to hit a country or two every year."

Caroline grins, "That sounds amazing."

Bonnie knocks her shoulder playfully into Caroline, causing her to sway slightly into Klaus. She leans over to catch his eye, "Do _not_ get her started. She'll talk your ear off and my life is too depressing to hear any more stories of the grand European adventure this one has planned."

"Oh?" Klaus asks, "And when do you set out?"

"Day after tomorrow," Caroline chirps, practically beaming. "After Matt stole my promotion by banging our boss I decided screw this place and threw some resumes out. Got something better lined up that starts in about a month so I figured I'd treat myself to a much needed vacation."

"All by your lonesome?" Klaus questions, forgoing subtlety altogether. "Or is there a boyfriend tagging along?"

Caroline's smile turns sly, head tipping to the side as she studies him contemplatively, "Just me. I was planning on getting friendly with the locals, if you know what I mean."

Bonnie huffs out a laugh, "_Everyone_ knows what you mean, Caroline."

"Nothing wrong with a vacation fling," Caroline insists. "It's the 21st century."

"Best time to do it is when you're young," the elderly woman says. "If I had legs like yours I'd be doing all the _flinging_ I could."

Caroline laughs softly and Klaus can feel it where they're pressed together. "See? Mrs. Haysmith is with me." She elbows him gently, and Klaus glances over in question. "What about you?" she asks.

"What about me?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Austria. Are you going alone? I'm assuming no given the way you're looking at my legs but it's possible you're just a creep."

"Mrs. Haysmith pointed them out, love" Klaus tells her, attempting to sound innocent. "You can't blame a man for looking under those circumstances."

She arches an eyebrow, unimpressed, "And earlier when I climbed on the desk?"

"Merely concern for your safety, of course."

She glares though it lacks true rancor, "I'm beginning to lean towards creep since you're so set on dodging the question."

Klaus opens his mouth to reply but he's interrupted by one of their audience. "Yes, mate, do confess. I'm on the edge of my seat wondering if you're going to get slapped or if I should be taking mental notes about this little chat for my toast at your wedding."

"Oh my god, _shut up_, Enzo," Bonnie hisses.

He's impervious to the admonishment, crowing, "So you _do_ know my name."

Her sigh is exasperated, "Why would you even be _at_ their wedding?"

"Um, due to the lifelong bonds people forge in high stress situations?" he says, tone implying that it should be obvious. "_And_ Gorgeous there has always been nice to me and I bet she'd throw a fantastic party."

"You are all insane," Matt mutters, picking at the starched cuffs of his shirt.

He's mostly ignored. Bonnie and Enzo continue to bicker, edging closer together, and Klaus leans into Caroline so he can speak without being heard. "I _was_ going to Austria alone. To answer your question."

She picks up on the emphasis, just as he'd meant her to. Klaus isn't a big believer in fate, or signs, but he's not one to pass up on a golden opportunity. Caroline's beautiful, strong willed and feisty. He suspects they'd have plenty of fun together. He's eager to get to know her and what better way than exploring unfamiliar places together?

"Was?" she repeats. "Planning on cancelling?"

"No, not exactly. Just thinking a few changes might be in order."

"Oh? What kind of changes?" she sounds curious, eyes bright with intrigue and Klaus is certain this is the best idea he's had in a long time.

He smile, pressing against her more deliberately. He wishes he could touch her, plans to rectify that oversight as soon as he has his hands free. "That, Caroline, depends entirely on _you_."


	70. In A Spin

**Notes: **A smutty canon-ish one! Set in early S6 and ignoring TO.

**In A Spin**

**(Prompt: "I see that you're looking for some Halloween Klaroline prompts, so here's one for your consideration! Caroline accidentally summons the devil, who is like a genie (who knew!?) and he grants her three wishes. Catch is, she doesn't get to choose the wishes, they are her dirtiest desires. Klaus reaps the benefits." And: "mine is a combo, if that's ok. 24,25, &amp; 19" which was bondage/restraints, blindfolds/sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms/marathon sex from the kink list prompts. Title from "I Believe In A Thing Called Love" by The Darkness. SMUT.)**

Juggling an armful of candles, various bowls and a couple of bulky books through the woods proves to be too much for Caroline even with the enhanced strength and coordination she'd gained once she'd become a vampire. She pauses when one thing slips, trying to rearrange her grip to prevent an avalanche, and fails. Everything tumbles to the ground, her overstuffed tote slipping from her shoulder to join the heap on the ground and she stomps her foot in frustration. The area is deserted and no one's around to observe her mini tantrum and she relishes the opportunity to vent a little. _Nothing_ had gone her way lately.

"Just great," Caroline mutters resentfully, crouching to begin picking things up. "A squishy cherry on top of the sundae of awfulness that is my life."

She roughly shoves a worn leather book into her bad, barely resisting the urge to fling it with all her strength in the woods. It had been a tree once, hadn't? Leaving it with some tree friends was practically a proper burial.

As tempting as the thought was Caroline knows her current state wasn't _really_ the book's fault. Alaric had tracked it down, passed it along to her. She'd attempted to follow the directions for a ritual it had laid out, one she'd _hoped_ would be the start of unravelling some of her most pressing problems, but it had been a bust. She'd been certain that the pages had said that one didn't need a witch to make the summoning work, that it could be done with only the correct ingredients and perfect timing, but maybe she'd translated wrong. The book had been in Turkish and while her translations had been painstaking it was _possible_ she'd missed something. She'd check again, maybe see if she could track down a native speaker. She'd give the ritual another go at the next new moon if none of her other research avenues turned anything up.

Slicing her finger open on the silver knife she'd brought with her (_of course_ the book had said that blood was required) Caroline curses and brings the cut to her mouth. No need to waste good blood. "Ugh," she grumbles once it's healed, "Could this night get any _worse_?"

As if in answer she hears the crunch of leaves and the unmistakable thudding of a set footsteps drawing closer. Caroline rises slowly, tense and wary. Sure, she hadn't exactly been paying a whole lot of attention but there's no way someone should have been able to sneak up on her. It wasn't possible, not with the level of quiet the forest out near The Falls is at nearly 2 AM on a school night.

She hadn't even told anyone where she was going. Bonnie's gone, Elena's wrapped up in Damon angst. Stefan's MIA and both Matt and Tyler are currently breakable. Her mom would worry so Caroline has kept many of the details of her activities private, covering up the possibly dangerous bits with sunny smiles and smooth misdirection. Alaric could have been A+ backup but he had been annoyingly patronizing about her quest to break down the line of Traveller magic around Mystic Falls. And, if Caroline's entirely honest, she's just not that comfortable in his presence. She makes sure they meet in public places even if it would be easier to go to his office. It's hard for her to forget that afternoon he'd spent torturing her, even if it hadn't been entirely _him_.

The footsteps draw closer, her visitor is making no attempt to be stealthy, and Caroline's kind of regretting not leaving _some_ form of breadcrumb.

She squints, vision sharpening as her human features recede. She makes out the shape of a body first, lean hipped and slightly broader through the shoulders, unmistakably male. She prowls forward a step, rests her weight on the balls of her feet, fangs bared and the knife that had cut her clutched in one hand. The figure disappears behind a clump of trees and Caroline takes it as an opportunity, speeding in his direction.

She stays low, hitting him hard and pinning him to a tree, knife to his throat.

A _familiar_ throat, leather cords and medallions wrapped around it, two moles that she remembers kissing visible on either side of her blade. She lets out a relieved breath but quickly shakes herself. _That_ was not the appropriate reaction. She pushes away from him roughly, "Klaus?" she shrieks. "What are you _doing_ here? You scared me to _death_!"

She expects a glib reply, something about how she's already dead, maybe one of those pet names he thinks is charming. A smile at the very least. She gets none of those things. Caroline is taken aback by the quizzical tilt of his head, the eyes that are more curious than warm. He remains reclined against the tree and when Klaus speaks the voice is off too. Caroline's grip on the knife tightens once more, a creeping feeling of unease filling her. His accent is entirely wrong, all rolling vowels and softer consonants, all in a patronizing tone that has her gritting her teeth in anger. "You're just a tiny baby vampire, aren't you? You smell brand new. However did someone like _you_ manage to find my book?"

She blinks, and gropes for a reply. Her suspicions confirmed, this was _not_ Klaus, and she's at a loss. Their positions are quickly reversed, the knife tossed aside, and not-Klaus' face lights up in glee. "Oh," he drawls. "This body is _fun_."

Caroline swallows, her mind racing. She needs information but something tells her to tread carefully. He might not be Klaus but he apparently has all of Klaus' speed and strength and none of Klaus' fondness for her. If he was aware of vampires he probably knew their weaknesses and could kill her in an instant if the urge struck him. "What did you do to Klaus? He's going to be pissed that you stole his body. Kind of hypocritically but I doubt he'd be cool if I pointed that out."

Not-Klaus laughs and pushes off the tree. Caroline feels the air around her move, can barely see Klaus' form as it zips around the trees in dizzying figure eights. He skids to a stop in front of her eyes bright with glee, "Not to worry, little vampire. Your _Klaus_ is safe and sound, wherever you left him. I'm just borrowing his form. Your fault. He's the hybrid, right? He's certainly kept us busy throughout the centuries. Sends us all sorts of fun new playthings. I've never met him personally but the boss man treats him a bottle of something nice every century or so. Anonymously, of course."

She knows her mouth is open, and that she probably looks like a moron, but Caroline's not sure where to start with _that_ pile of information. "I didn't _leave_ him anywhere. I haven't _seen_ him in months."

That earns her another laugh. Not-Klaus' hand rests on his chest, strokes down his body in a deliberately provocative gesture that is not helping Caroline process the weirdness of the situation. He eases into her space again, head ducking until his lips graze her throat. She goes rigid, resists the urge to gag, hands clenching around the instinct to claw and fight. "Now that's not strictly true, is it? You might not have seen him in the flesh but you see him all the time in your dreams. The ones that sneak up on you. You try so hard to jerk yourself awake when they begin, shift your mind to something that you find more… savory. But then there are the times you're already in too deep and they pull you in. You love every minute of them, curse your return to reality, but you'd never admit it. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

Great. Another freaky shapeshifter with mind reading abilities. Just what she'd needed to cap off a killer summer. Why did they _always_ have to horn in on her perviest Klaus thoughts? Admittedly they were a little more frequent, and imaginative, in the months since they'd last seen each other, when she'd indulged herself in him and learned what a thousand years of experience could teach a guy. It was only natural that her mind wandered back there from time to time. She was a vampire in the midst of a godawful sexual dry spell. Caroline sucks in a breath through her clenched teeth, striving desperately for calm. "Who are you?" she manages to grit out.

Again, she gets nothing but an infuriatingly superior smile. "You summoned me. Shouldn't you _know_?"

She feels a momentary burst of excitement. So the ritual _had_ worked. Maybe she'd been reading things wrong. "You're going to answer my questions about Traveller magic?"

Not-Klaus snorts, "I _could_ but that's not my particular area of interest. I grant wishes. Of a sort."

"Like a genie?" Caroline blurts out incredulously. It sounds insane but so have a lot of things post death by suffocation. If this guy, whoever or _whatever_ he was, could grant wishes then all her problems could be solved. Poof, magical barrier gone. Poof, Bonnie back to the land of the living. Hell, she'd even be super freaking generous and poof Damon back too so Elena would stop moping and Stefan would go back to his usual level of morose.

She hears a noise, mockingly sympathetic, watches Not-Klaus shake his head, eyes bright with mischief. "Poor little vampire. You should be careful about messing with things you cannot understand. Some of my cohorts would happily peel your flesh from your bones for daring to disturb them with your pesky questions. They'd bathe you in blood, let it grow back, and try it again. For _decades_."

Caroline swallows harshly, the gulp audible in the stillness of the forest. She hates that her voice quavers, "But you don't do that, right?"

"Not often," Not-Klaus chirps and Caroline hopes it's meant to be reassuring. "I deal with desires. Of the carnal variety. Those secret thoughts that have you hopping out of your too empty bed at night and diving into an icy cold shower because you know if you touch yourself you'll say his name when you come and that will make it so much more difficult for you to shove down all of your complicated, loathsome, gut churning _feelings_. I'm here to help."

Her eyes widen in surprise and she fights down a hysterical laugh. "What, you're going to take away my sex dreams? Because I gotta tell you, I can deal with that. I'll probably get more research done if my sleep schedule isn't such a mess, so…"

She stills when Not-Klaus touches her once more, strokes his fingers along the line of her throat, expression indulgent. "I can't take away your dreams. I can only make them real. Maybe then you'll no longer fear them, hmm? Running from your desires hardly seems productive. You seem like a bright girl, Caroline. Ambitious. Think of what you could do if you stopped being so afraid. "

"What?" Caroline sputters, cringing back from the touch. "I have zero interest in screwing some creepy stranger wearing a Klaus-suit, thank you very much."

He shakes his head. "You're very pretty but you're not my type either. You'll figure it out in time."

Not acceptable. "What does that mean?" Caroline presses.

"Only that I am satisfied with our bargain and your offerings. You might be a young thing but a vampire's blood is still more useful than a humans. Might I suggest you clear your schedule for the next New Moon? And the two after that. Wouldn't want to make your loved ones suspicious. They're so quick to condemn you, aren't they? I can't help but wonder why you care so much."

Caroline's eyes narrow and it takes great effort to maintain her politeness, "You might be able to see into my head but you don't _know_ me."

"Perhaps not. But do they?"

Caroline searches for a response, finds that words in her friend's defense are hard to find. Not-Klaus lifts his hands, takes a step backwards. "Food for thought, little vampire." He melts into the shadows with a final wiggle of his fingers before she can say anything else, and she clamps her teeth tightly to force herself not to call him back.

She has questions but she's certain that getting answers from _him_ would be more trouble than it was worth.

* * *

Caroline had tried, really _really_ hard, to push the weird encounter with Not-Klaus out of her mind and go about her business. She'd stood stock still after he'd left, squinting into the darkness and straining her ears, half wondering if the lack of sleep and steady diet of blood bags, coffee and peanut M&amp;M's had conspired to make her hallucinate.

_Why_ would she have hallucinated some mysterious weirdo impersonating Klaus Caroline had no idea but she'd told herself that there _had_ to be a logical explanation. She'd sped home once she'd determined that the forest was truly deserted and gone back to the book Alaric had given her. The one where she'd found the ritual in the first place. It was something he'd gotten from an old hunter acquaintance, a mish mash of journal entries in half a dozen languages. She'd decided to start at the beginning, kicked herself for not doing it sooner. She'd only translated the first bit of each section, had run with the one that seemed the most promising.

Her rough translations (what had people even _done_ before the internet?) only added to Caroline's self censure. Each sentence squashed her faint hope that she'd been imagining her encounter with Not-Klaus further. She'd gotten through about a third of the book before exhaustion had overtaken her and she'd crashed, bent into an uncomfortable heap on her couch. In the morning, groggy and stiff, she'd been shocked that she'd even been _able_ to sleep, the knowledge that she was in way over her head sitting heavy and suffocating in her chest as she continued to work on the entries the journal contained.

The book detailed demon encounters. She read of bargains that could be made if one was truly desperate though the pages were filled with all sorts of alarming warnings about how such a thing should be an absolute last resort and that there could very well be awful, life ruining consequences.

Yeah, that definitely would have been good to know _before_ Caroline had done the ritual.

She'd had to stop and pace around her apartment for a good long while to calm down once the knowledge had begun to sink in, hands shaky and breath coming out in frantic pants. Freaking demons were apparently real, hell and the devil actual _things_. Why had no one thought that was pertinent info?! She and Alaric were going to have serious words both about this particular bit of info withholding and about his attitude regarding her research. His vaguely sympathetic humoring of her was going to have to stop and his willingness to _help_ greatly improved. Caroline needed everything he could get her and she needed it yesterday.

Caroline had even considered calling Klaus because surely, of all people, _he_ would know about this? Would maybe be willing to offer a couple of tips and tricks for navigating the situation she'd bumbled her way into? She'd stared at his number in her contacts list for a _long_ time but in the end she'd been too much of a coward to connect the call. If he knew about demons he'd likely have taken the time to dig deep. Klaus wasn't the type of person who liked to be surprised. He could help her, yes, but then she'd have to confess which kind of demon she was tangling with, the situation she'd gotten herself into, and Caroline had no idea how to go about explaining _that_ without _also_ explaining how it related to Klaus.

Talk about awkward.

She'd been determined to fix the mess she'd made all by herself.

Problem was her new demon friend was completely resistant to Caroline's attempts to sit down and chat, work out their issues without involving Klaus. She hadn't been able to find a name, only a drawing or two, and various passages confirming that yep, there was a particularly tricky demon who did specialize in granting sexual fantasies. Apparently he'd caused quite the stir throughout history. Respectable society types who summoned him looking for a thrill weren't so good at going back to stiff and proper lights off partially clothed sexual encounters after meeting him and having their dirty thoughts and curiosities made into reality.

Caroline could kind of relate. Orgasms had been scarce for her lately, the few hook ups she'd attempted mostly unsatisfying. She'd chalked it up to them being human and easily exhausted. She'd mostly resigned herself to taking care of her own needs unless until she happened across a handsome supernatural type.

In various journals Alaric had procured Caroline had read several tales of wives confined to asylums and unmarried daughters sent to convents after their encounters with the demon Caroline had met. They'd made her super grateful to have been born in the 21st century and all the more determined to weasel her way out of the deal she'd accidentally made.

She'd tried various things the book spoke of to attempt to open the lines of communication, had even tried to get a witch to help her (no such luck because the only witches she knew, Liv and Luke, were still a little pissed that Caroline had temporarily killed Luke that one time, oops). She'd made zero headway, had taken to obsessively checking the moon tracker app she'd installed on her phone, hoping against hope that she could return to the spot she'd used at The Falls on the new moon, replicate the ritual exactly, and somehow explain that nope, she really didn't need to act out her naughty fantasies.

At all. Ever.

She's been mentally rehearsing her speech for weeks, running through it in her head for the bajillionth time as she makes her way to her car, arms once again full of books and bowls and ceremonial representations of the elements. She's even talking to herself, hyper focused on her mission. Just like before she feels something in her arms begin to shift but Caroline keeps moving. "Nope, not today," she grits out.

She thinks she hears a laugh, soft and mocking, before her burden is suddenly gone, leaving her arms held stiffly out in front of her. Caroline freezes and whirls, scanning the small parking lot next to her building.

The laugh sounds again, slightly louder and she squeezes her eyes shut. "This isn't funny!" she exclaims. "I just want to talk!"

She gets no answer, not a verbal one anyway. Just a momentary spell of dizziness that leaves her swaying on her feet. When Caroline opens her eyes she can't see anything, a swathe of silky fabric wrapped around her eyes. She feels warm and the air is still enough that she's certain she's no longer outside. She's also no longer _dressed. _She'd been wearing jeans and comfy boots, a jacket layered over a sweater, and now she feels downy soft sheets brushing against the bare skin of her back and legs.

She's also flat on her back, arms and legs spread wide and _bound_. She hears a soft thunk, thinks something was dropped onto a thick carpet. She hears leather creak and presses her lips together, knows she's turned a shade of pink that's probably close to neon.

Someone's in the room with her and Caroline has a damn good idea of exactly who it is.

A throat clears, a few footsteps sound as a person draws closer. A throat is cleared, "This… is certainly an interesting development. And here I thought I was in for a quiet _solitary_ night. Hello, Caroline."

She tries not to visibly cringe, attempts to subtly pull at the ribbons that are wrapped around her wrists. If the lingerie she's wearing is anything like the pieces she wears in her fantasies they reveal far more than they conceal. "Klaus," she begins, attempting to sound nonchalant, "I can explain."

The noise he makes is amused though it's quickly cut off. Caroline feels the brush of his fingertips on her forehead and finds herself blinking up at him once he's pushed the blindfold aside. Her eyes drift down over his bare torso, linger on the sweatpants that sit low on his hips. He hadn't been kidding about the quiet night in and she shakes herself, forces her eyes to snap back to his. He's watching her calmly, though she doesn't miss the tiny bit of heat that's kindled in his expression. She fights the urge to squirm in response. "Explain how you somehow managed to appear in my bed, right before my eyes? I look forward to hearing your tale." He reaches to run a finger over her wrist, a gleam of intrigue in his eyes, "And wearing such… accoutrements."

She closes her eyes and tries to shove her embarrassment aside. "Yeah, about that. You maybe wanna help me out?" She tugs at the freakishly strong ribbon but it's useless no matter how much she strains.

"Of course," Klaus' hand wraps around the fabric and he yanks, a look of annoyance settling across his face when it doesn't budge. He pulls harder, the muscles in his arm growing taut. A brief image of her teeth sinking into his skin flits across her mind and the warmth she's feeling increases. Luckily, Klaus' attention is focused elsewhere. He's moved on to attempting to snap the wooden bedframe but it too resists his strength. He appears thoughtful when he pulls back, folds a leg below him and sits on the bed. "I think I'm going to need that explanation first, love."

Caroline blows out a breath, rests back against his pillows with a pained groan. "I _really_ hate my life right now."

"Funny, because I don't know that mine has ever been quite so fantastic." She narrows her eyes in a glare but Klaus only smiles. His eyes skim over her body, a flicker of hunger darkening the blue of his eyes. "However, I'd always planned for you to be tied to my bed _willingly_ so let's deal with whatever witch sent you here, hmm? It's been awhile since I've killed anything challenging."

"It wasn't a witch," Caroline informs him. Klaus' brows rise, waiting for her to continue.

Ugh, this part was going to be _the worst._

"I kind of, sort of, summoned a demon type thing. Accidentally. Mostly."

Klaus goes still, stiff and stone faced, but Caroline can feel the anger pulsing from him. He's silent for agonizingly long moments, his tone carefully controlled once he manages to form words, "Why would you _do_ such a thing, Caroline?"

She's pretty sure he'd be less than pleased with her reasoning, he'd never been shy about his mystification regarding her attachment to Mystic Falls or her friends, so she skips it. She didn't think her motivations were all that relevant anyway. "Oh, good, you know about them."

Klaus sighs impatiently, "Bargaining with demons was an avenue I explored to find Katerina and dispose of my father. I never completed one as I was not fond of what they required of me in return."

Caroline supposed that made sense. "Well, luckily this one only needed my blood and he's already got that."

"And what did you receive in return?" Klaus asks. There's something speculative in the words, and his eyes drift lower again, lingering on her breasts. Caroline peeks down, is unsurprised to see that her nipples are clearly visible behind the fine black lace of the bra she wears. Klaus' tongue darts out to trace his lower lip and Caroline's abs clench in response.

She'd bet he had a damn good idea of what the demon had gifted her with but he wants her to _say_ it.

He'd seemed to like hearing her in the woods. Pleas, demands, begging. They'd all fallen from her lips and Klaus had been greedy for more, teasing her with too light touches, the barest brushes of his mouth, low voices promises of what he would do to her, until she'd been hoarse and mindless, reduced to panting out his name as she clawed at his skin.

God, she wished there was a way to sugar coat this. Caroline had put two and two together. If Klaus couldn't release her with a full deployment of hybrid brute strength it stood to reason there was only one way she was getting loose and getting home. And _maybe_ a tiny voice had begun to whisper that she should take this opportunity and run with it. She'd occasionally regretted cutting off all contact and this was kind of a loophole, wasn't it? Plus, she'd been freaking teleported thousands of miles. She might as well get _something_ out of the experience.

"Well, I thought I was going to get tips and tricks about how to deal with my current life and death dramas but instead…" she looks down meaningfully at her barely clothed body and then over to Klaus hoping that will be enough of a hint.

Klaus, characteristically, seems determined to make life difficult for her, "Instead?" he prompts, a hint of a smirk curling his mouth.

The noise she makes resembles a growl and Klaus' lips press together like he's trying not to laugh. "Stop playing dumb, Klaus. I am tied to your bed wearing the kind of lingerie that costs an arm and a leg and looks trashy as hell. What exactly do you _think_ is happening here?"

Klaus leans over, planting on of his arm on the far side of her body and leaning down slightly to meet her eyes. "I _think_ that you have a delightfully naughty imagination, Caroline. I suspected it though our interlude in the woods was far too brief for me to really explore the things that arouse you. I also think that I'm now being given the opportunity to rectify that unfortunate state of affairs. Tell me, am I correct?"

He shifts closer, head dipping as his eyes drift down to study her lips.

Caroline draws in a shaky inhale, "That's about the gist of it, yeah."

His lips brush hers before drifting down her throat, "We have to fulfill your fantasy?"

She shudders when he presses a kiss to her skin, teeth scraping over her throat. "I think so? Honestly, I was a little weirded out that the demon was wearing your face. He was annoyingly cryptic."

He hums, and his next words come out deeper, a hand shifting to trace her side as he drags his lips down her sternum. "Tell me about this fantasy, Caroline."

His thumb sneaks just under her panties, tracing the hollow below her hipbone. Caroline shifts restlessly, arching her hips to encourage his hand to move _lower_. Her body's completely onboard and has been for a while from the heat and wetness she can feel gathered between her thighs. She barely hears his question and Klaus kisses the space between her breasts, stubble scraping over the skin that spills over the cups of her bra. "I'm waiting," he murmurs. "How does this go in your mind, Caroline? Do you want me to tease you? Push you to the edge of your sanity but not let you come until your need is nearly painful?"

Caroline shakes her head, a touch frantically. "I'm not really into torturing myself in my fantasies."

Klaus' laugh is low, and he snaps the front of her bra with one quick movement. "Hey!" she protests, "I was hoping to keep that."

Klaus ignores the admonishment, licking over her nipple before rolling it gently between his teeth. Caroline gasps at the sparks it sends shooting through her, head digging back into the pillow. He pulls back and looks up at her, eyes dark. "Torture," he rasps, "is relative. Think of how good it could feel once you finally got to let go. All that buildup, the exquisite tension in your body. How hard do you think you could come for me, Caroline?"

She swallows hard knowing she probably _will_ think about it. Later.

Klaus smiles and shifts over her in one smooth motion, head dropping once more to allow his mouth to toy with her nipples. He's leisurely about it, switching sides until they're both aching peaks and she's got a few fading red marks staining her skin. Caroline moans under the onslaught, straining against the ties that limit her movement. Klaus has his weight on his knees and forearms, only allows the lightest press of his body against hers and it's _killing_ her.

"Klaus," she hisses out, "I need…"

He pushes himself off of her, sitting back on her knees, eyeing her contemplatively, "You don't dream about delayed gratification."

She digs her nails into her palms, forcing herself to focus, "I never _have_. There's always _plenty_ of gratification, trust me."

Klaus eyes light up and his hands come to lightly rest on her thighs. "How many times do I need to make you come, Caroline? So that we can truly check this one off your list?"

She tries to think but he makes it difficult, palms gliding up the muscles of her thighs. His thumbs tease the smooth inner curves and trace the joint where her torso begins. Caroline twitches, another stab of lust hitting her low in her belly. She takes a deep breath, tries to steady her nerves, "I've never actually counted. You always start with your hands."

He moves, a single fingertip tracing along her slit, a gentle brush that isn't nearly enough. Her hips arch up but she can't get much height, the ribbons at her ankles holding her down. She swallows back a whine, clenching her teeth together. "Do I?" Klaus asks. "I suppose that's as good a place to start as any."

Her mouth falls open around a gasp as she hears a tear and her panties meet the same fate as her bra. She can't even lament the death of the second most expensive piece of lingerie she's ever owned because Klaus eases a finger inside of her, beginning to pump slowly as he makes firm circles over her clit with his thumb. His eyes drop down and Caroline's follow, watching as his hand becomes soaked with her wetness, listening to the slick sounds as he touches her. They'd been rushed and frantic in the woods but this is different, _better_. He seems intent on learning what she likes, varying the pressure of his thumb and curling the finger he's fucking her with. Her thighs begin to tremble, jerky little spasms each time he rubs that spot inside of her just so, her heartrate climbs slowly, hips shifting as much as possible to ride his hand. She moans when he adds a second finger, clenching down against the extra fullness in relief. The ache in her belly tightens, and she strains against the ribbons holding her down, wanting to _touch_ him.

She cries out as the tension snaps, vision going hazy as her nerves go haywire. Klaus works her through it, his wet fingers prolonging the ripples of pleasure as his low words of encouragement and praise drift over her. Her limbs feel like jelly and she sinks into the bed with a sigh as her eyes drift shut in bliss.

Her laziness is short lived, back arching as Klaus leans down to lick at her entrance, a soft noise of enjoyment coming from him. It vibrates against her sensitive folds and she shivers, eyes snapping open to stare at him questioningly. He grins, flashing double fangs, and the dark promise in the curve of it has Caroline biting the inside of her lip to keep from moaning.

It so wasn't fair that he could turn her on with a _look_.

"You mentioned that I always _start_ with my hands," he says, sounding enviably controlled. Caroline can see his cock straining the front of his lounge pants, the slight sheen of sweat that's built up across his chest, so she knows he's not at all unaffected. "Am I to surmise that I continue with my mouth? I remember you had a bit of a fondness for it."

She can't even be mad about the smugness because he immediately dives down and wraps his lips around her clit, tongue flicking rapidly over the trapped bundle of nerves, and she thrashes against her bonds in response. She whimpers when her pulls back and turns to press a kiss to her thigh. He speaks softly, tone a silky temptation, "Shh, love," he croons. "Just settling my plans. I'll use my mouth until you're screaming for me. I've dreamed of your taste. Then my cock until you can't think. I'll miss your thighs wrapped around me but there's always next time. I do believe we've more of your fantasies to explore, yes? Demons are so fond of their threes."

God, Caroline doesn't even want to _think_ about that, consider what they could possibly _be_. She has way more than three and she'd definitely need to make a list, at least _attempt_ to mentally prepare herself.

Klaus, sensing her wandering thoughts, nips at her thigh. "Then we'll start again, hmm?" he taunts. "It's possible six will do it, but perhaps not. I'm perfectly fine with going again, and again, until we've completed this fantasy to your satisfaction. You're so pretty when you're falling apart for me, Caroline, and I know you prize a job well done."

She rolls her eyes, beginning to get impatient with his speechifying. Klaus really did like the sound of his own voice. And while she did too her body needed a little less talk and a lot more action. "Well," she drawls tauntingly, "that's true. I also believe that the only way to get a job done right it to do it yourself, if we're tossing out clichés. And since I can't exactly _do it_ myself right now…"

Klaus' smile is slow and a touch feral, "That almost sounds like a challenge. I'll gladly help you out, sweetheart. And maybe, just maybe, you'll show me how _you_ do it yourself next time."

It's entirely possible, Caroline knows. Her fantasies are many and varied and sometimes this particular scenario is reversed and she relishes the opportunity to make Klaus beg. And there's another one, somewhat related, that she's particularly fond of, that she could fulfill right now. "You first," she murmurs challengingly, raising an eyebrow and raking her gaze down the tensed muscles of his abs.

Klaus complies immediately, shoving down the waistband of his sweats and wrapping his hand, the one still slick from being inside her, around his cock. He strokes himself slowly for several moments under her rapt gaze. Her hands twist in the ribbons, needing something to hold on to, her clit beginning to ache from neglect. She attempts to press her thighs together, toes curling in frustration because she can't. Klaus groans, his eyelids drifting shut, the line of his shoulders going tense as his hand moves more quickly, the motions roughening. She studies him greedily, committing the details of his blissed out features to her memory, wishing she could trace the relaxed line of his mouth with her tongue, bite down and draw a little blood.

Hopefully the next time will be more conducive to kissing, Caroline thinks, though she also intends to drink from him. No fantasy is complete without the memory of how good his blood tastes on her tongue. He stills suddenly, hand tight around the base of his cock, a faint shudder wracking his frame. She's about to ask him what's wrong when he moves, settling between her thighs on his elbows, blowing a stream of air across her sticky folds. "I'll come when I'm inside you," he grits out, right before he licks her open.

If she'd had any objections there long gone in under ten seconds. Klaus was right, damn him. She _did_ like his mouth.


	71. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 1

**Notes:** A short bit of AH fluff! This was for Day One of the 25daysofklaroline event that's happening on Tumblr. The theme was Klaroline + First Meetings.

**You Walked Into Mine**

**(Prompt: Au/Ah prompt :) Caroline after hours of walking around upset walks into a frozen yogurt place but is told by the owner working there (Klaus) that they are closed and apologises for leaving the open sign on. Caroline becomes emotional again and Klaus is all like "Please don't cry, here have some fro yo on the house." Then they spend the whole night talking whilst eating fro yo and get to know each other. Fluffier the better. Rated K+)**

Klaus is in the office at the back of the shop, trying to decipher a note Kol had dropped in the till. It's something of a habit of his brother's, offering free cones to pretty tourists in hopes of coaxing them to linger in the shop a little longer so Kol can attempt to deploy more of his dubious charms. It had taken Klaus a while to catch on, several months of wondering why they were always running out of the brownie bites and chocolate sprinkles before all the other toppings when he did the ordering. He and Kol worked opposite shifts, overlapping during the day though one or the other of them was usually cooped up in the office dealing with the more mundane tasks associated with owning a business while the other was out on the sales floor with their part time help.

Klaus preferred the office. Making nice with impatient or indecisive customers was not his strong suit.

It might have taken even longer for the filching to be revealed but Klaus had left his cell phone behind one day, had returned just before closing to retrieve it.

He'd managed to catch Kol red handed, had leveled an unimpressed look at his brother but had refrained from giving into the urge to embarrass his brother in front of the petite brunette Kol had been chatting up.

Several days of frosty silence coming from Klaus' end, with Kol doing his best to alternately annoy and cajole him into breaking it (he'd never been particularly fond of quiet), resulted in Kol agreeing to actually _pay_ for the product he passed out while flirting. Kol had taken to leaving little notes to remind himself of exactly what he owed. Klaus pointedly tacked them to their shared bulletin board when Kol forgot to settle his tab. Today's particular scrap of paper had several annotations but Klaus couldn't make out his brother's chicken scratch. He only hoped that _Kol_ could. Feeling a little mean he scribbles another line, adding £5 to Kol's total, planning on treating himself to a bowl of spiced chai frozen yogurt and a load of toppings.

Really, it was the least Kol could do for him. Klaus was nearly certain that the, 'last minute emergency' Kol had claimed to get Klaus to come in and cover the closing duties was not at all urgent and just an excuse to meet up with whoever he'd been slyly texting all day.

The goofy grin his brother had worn every time he'd tucked his phone back into his pocket was the opposite of subtle.

He stands from the desk, tossing down his pen and stretching out the kinks in his back. Klaus starts when he hears the familiar tinkle of the bells at the front door. "Damn it, Kol," he mutters, turning swiftly and making his way towards the front of the shop. Kol had waved of Klaus' reminder to lock the door and flip the 'Open' sign as he'd hurried out of the office. Silly Klaus for assuming his brother had actually _done_ the tasks.

He's got a smile pasted on his face but pauses when he catches a glimpse the woman who'd walked into the shop. She's lovely, he first notes, with her tousled blonde curls and creamy skin. He instantly feels a touch guilty when he takes in her expression. She looks miserable, damp from the ever present rain, blinking furiously in a way that makes dread settle in Klaus' stomach because he suspects it means that the drops of moisture on her face hadn't come _just_ from precipitation.

He's always been completely useless in the face of tears. Something Rebekah _still_ exploited though, after years of practice, Klaus could usually discern between genuine upset and that which she feigned to get her way.

"I'm sorry. We're closed," Klaus tells the woman apologetically.

She deflates further, shoulders slumping. Her reply is tremulous, "Oh, sorry. The door was open and the sign…"

Klaus offers what he hopes is a warm smile, "My brother's not the responsible type, unfortunately."

She returns the smile though hers is wan, "Sorry to have disturbed you," she murmurs, her eyes dropping as she turns on her heel.

The heel that snaps with a sharp crack sending her stumbling into one of the tables that line the window.

Klaus lunges but he's too far away to catch her and she lets out a sharp cry of pain as her hip bumps the corner, hands slapping down to catch herself. He strides quickly across the shop, a hand hovering over her back concernedly. "Are you alright? Why don't you sit down?"

She starts to protest, "No, it's fine. I'm…" but Klaus is already pulling out a chair, urging her to settle onto it and kneeling at her feet.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. I _am_ a responsible business owner, can't have you getting seriously injured on my watch. You Americans are a litigious lot from what I've read." He smirks up at her as he says it, making it clear that he's kidding.

Her eyes roll but she lets out a hiss when he wraps his hand around her foot and Klaus' forehead creases in concern and he bends to study it. He's no doctor but he's certain it's beginning to swell, already slightly larger looking than her uninjured ankle. As delicately as possible he undoes the strap of the broken shoe, easing it off of her foot. "I'm going to get you some ice."

She shakes her head, her embarrassment plain, "You really don't have to. Seriously, my shoe breaking is in no way your fault. It's probably a sign that I should consider quality over quantity in future shopping trips."

Klaus stands, "It's really no trouble, love. Ice is something I happen to have _plenty_ of."

She cracks a smile at that, "Probably useful in keeping things _frozen_, huh?"

"Precisely. Give me one moment." Klaus darts off to the kitchen and grabs two towels. The first he fills with ice cubes before finding an elastic band to make a makeshift pouch. He tucks the second in his pocket and a bottle of water under his arm before he makes his way back out. She hasn't moved, not that he'd expected her to be able to with one shoe strapped on and injured as she is. She smiles gratefully as he sets the bottle in front of her. He pulls out another chair, props her foot on it and lays the spare towel across her leg before situating the ice pack over the worst of the swelling. "There," he murmurs in satisfaction before reaching for a chair of his own. "Now, why don't you tell me your name?"

She's fiddling with the cap, flicking it in circles, "Caroline."

"I'm Klaus," he says, offering his hand.

She shakes it, her grasp light and tentative. "Sorry for all… this," she says, gesturing helplessly around the shop. "I've had _a day_, you know? I was just walking and thought hey, maybe eating my feelings would help, and then boom disaster."

"I don't know that I would say _disaster_," Klaus teases, disliking the hint of bleakness that had crept back over her features. "The shop's still standing and I think you'll live. Nothing so dire as to warrant such a title."

She sighs, "You are being _way_ too nice to me."

"I'll have you know that I am _never_ nice. Ask anyone. I glare at children who leave sticky fingerprints on my windows and just before you dropped in I was giving serious consideration to how to make my brother slightly miserable tomorrow."

A smile tugs at the corner of her lips and Klaus considers it an accomplishment, "Only slightly? I think you're not quite the paragon of evil you're trying to sell yourself here as, Klaus."

He shrugs, "Perhaps you'll just have to wait and see. Can I interest you in some frozen yogurt? You can tell me about your day while you eat your feelings?"

Her head tips to the side and she seems to put some serious thought into the offer. Klaus struggles against the urge to push, really hoping she'll accept. Finally Caroline nods and leans back in her chair, "You know what? Yeah. Why not? Throbbing pain in my ankle aside this is totally the best part of my day so far."

"I'm flattered," Klaus murmurs, climbing to his feet again. "Though that is an unacceptably low bar." One he's going to do his best to soar right over. Starting with getting the Caroline a bottle of painkillers and hopefully progressing to them sharing an actual meal. He'll start with the frozen yogurt he decides, and then work to continue to coax her out of her ill temper. She's already smiling and Klaus makes it his goal to get her to laugh. The couch in the office is fairly comfortable, and there's a great Italian place down the street. It's not exactly the proper way to go about a first date but Klaus can't find it in him to mind.

He might even be generous and scratch that £5 from Kol's bill.


	72. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 7

**Notes:** This is a sequel! The first part is the 3rd drabble in Chapter 49. It's the one where Caroline finds herself reluctantly drawn to her summer class professor and intrigued by his tattoo. The amazingly brilliant MrsAgentCooper requested a follow up for her birthday. I posted it for the 25daysofklaroline Klaroline + College day. It got long so expect one more part which I am going to try to have out before the New Year!

**Can't Let It Go (Part Two)**

"Well, well, well, so we meet again."

She doesn't acknowledge the guy right away. The voice is only vaguely familiar and Caroline's not entirely sure it's addressing her. Plus, she's had way lamer come ons while working a shift. It's usually amusing to let them get huffy by ignoring them. She smiles and hands over the beers she'd just uncapped, taking her time as she slides over to tuck the cash she'd been given into the till, before turning and lifting a quizzical brow.

Her eyes widen slightly in recognition but she manages to keep the rest of her expression neutral. She glances around, doesn't see Professor Mikaelson anywhere. So what was his brother doing here?

Caroline might have only met him once but she had a sinking feeling that whatever he was doing here it would only lead to aggravation on her end. He had shit disturber written _all_ over him.

Pasting on a polite smile she steps forward, setting her hands on the bar. "What can I get you?"

He pouts exaggeratedly and pulls up one of the stools, sitting down and drumming his fingers on the bar top, "Pretending not to know me? I am hurt."

She rolls her eyes, "I _don't_ know you. We exchanged approximately fifteen words last night."

He grins, "An oversight I thought to rectify. Pour me a drink, lovely. I think it's time we get to know one another. I've heard such delightful things about you American college girls. I imagine it's a bit chilly up here for all the tit flashing I see on those videos but I suppose alcohol _is_ warming."

Was he _serious_?

Caroline narrows her eyes, "Think very carefully about your next words. My mother's a sheriff, my father _very_ overprotective. They taught me all sorts of ways to _painfully_ kill a guy's chances of ever reproducing. I'd _love_ to demonstrate exactly what American college girls are capable of."

He blinks and Caroline thinks she detects a brief flash of respect, maybe even a small tinge of approval, before he's once again the picture of lazy arrogance. "Kinky," he drawls, eyebrows wiggling suggestively, "I can see why Nik's gotten himself a bit fascinated. Hidden depths, that one."

"He's my _professor_," Caroline blurts out, before she can think not to. She grits her teeth to cut off the rest of her denial, the urge to point out that life was not one of the porn movies this guy likely consumed in bulk. That would only encourage him more than she already had. She'd shown a teeny bit of weakness and now she'd pay for it. Thinking quickly she grabs the same bottle of bourbon she'd poured for him last night, snatching up a glass. Maybe he could be distracted? "What's your name, anyway? Since you're apparently here on some weird mission of nosy cryptic creepiness."

"Kol Mikaelson," he tells her, holding out his hand. "The most handsome of the Mikaelsons."

Caroline casts a glance down at his hand but makes no move to shake it. "Yeah, no thanks. I don't know where that's been and from everything you've said so far I doubt you're all that… discerning. I do not have time to deal with catching something that'll need antibiotics."

"Hurtful, darling. And patently untrue. I have exquisite taste."

She makes no move to stifle her aggravated sigh. What she wouldn't give for a rush right now. Unfortunately, it was only 6:30 and the bar wouldn't get busy for another two or three hours. And from the way Kol seemed to be settling in she wouldn't be getting rid of him anytime soon. "If you say so," she finally answers, head dipping in a faintly condescending nod.

He stares at her expectantly like he's waiting for something and Caroline holds his gaze, keeping her own expression impassive. He's tangling with the wrong girl. She'd been the uncontested queen of staring contests back in middle school and was no stranger to shutting down guys who _really_ liked to hear themselves talk.

He'd sought her out. He could damn well cough up why without her having to pry.

He sips his drink as he studies her and Caroline refuses to as much as twitch under the scrutiny. It's significantly less lascivious than his once over last night had been and that makes her leery. Kol Mikaelson was _definitely_ up to no good.

Finally, he speaks. "You're a student."

"Yeah, as we established last night."

"A good one?" he asks and Caroline's sure it's a taunt.

She refuses to rise to it. "A fantastic one," she tells him sweetly. "Set to graduate early and I'm just waiting on acceptance letters into an MBA program."

He casts his eyes around the room, a hint of disdain at the curling of his lips, "And yet you toil away _here_ in your spare time? If you're such a phenom shouldn't there be scholarships and such?"

Caroline can't hold back her derisive snort, "There are several, thanks for your concern. Do you have any idea how much I pay in tuition? What a _scam_ textbooks are? Excuse me for attempting to alleviate a lifetime of crushing debt."

There's an edge to his smile that she doesn't like, one that leaves her spine snapping straighter, tense and wary, "Nonsense, a pretty thing like you? I'm sure there are other avenues to financial freedom. Deep pockets to worm your way into. I'm sure your talents don't _just_ lie in scholastics?"

She leans forward slightly, nails digging into the wood of the bar as she rests more of her weight on her hand. She knows her expression has flattened, hopes he's smart enough to recognize the line he's skirting. She has no desire to sacrifice her grade to maim I'm but if he pushed her much further? Well, she'd have to make it worthwhile. "Look, _Kol_. I get that there might be some overprotective sibling thing going over my head here but I _do not_ appreciate what you're implying."

He's the very picture of innocence, absently twirling his empty glass in circles, "A girl as smart as you claim to be can surely navigate Google, _Caroline_."

"It was tricky but I figured it out," she snaps frostily. "I know all about your brother's old job, can infer that he's taken a giant pay cut to teach my class and that he probably doesn't notice because y'all likely have a Duck Tales style vault under your each of your various castles and summer homes and ski chateaus."

He laughs and it might even be genuine. "Nothing quite as tacky as that, darling."

Her smile is grim, "I had literally never spoken to your brother outside of class until yesterday. You are barking up the _wrong_ tree."

Kol shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. "Maybe. I've reasons to be cautious, you see. Can I trouble you for another drink?"

She wants to tell him to shove it, maybe toss the drink he wants in his lap but she breathes through the urge. She's completely done talking to him but acting defensive, like his grossly obnoxious suggestions had _bothered_ her, would only make him think he was right. Caroline ducks down to grab the bottle before snatching his glass from him. She gropes for her very best customer service tone, distant and perkily polite, "Can I get you anything else? she asks. "A menu, maybe?"

"Just keep the drinks coming, if you please."

Caroline's never been so relieved to hear the bell over the door jingle, doesn't even mind that the small pack of giggling girls (one of whom is sporting a tiara and a hot pink feather boa) that spill into the bar are a textbook 21st birthday party and are probably going to have her mixing all manner of super complicated brightly colored drinks that hide insane amounts of booze.

She'd gladly take the extra work right now, would just have to cross her fingers that she didn't end up cleaning pink puke off the ladies room floors later on.

Kol turns to watch them stumble in and he practically lights up. "Ah, now those are the sorts of college girls the internet promised me."

"Ew," Caroline mumbles.

He raises a brow in her direction, "What was that?"

She plays dumb, "What was what?"

His eyes narrow but once again he seems more amused than anything, his previous cutting manner having melted away. He slides off the stool, straightening his shirt. "Wish me luck, darling."

Caroline doesn't bother, retrieves a towel to wipe down his spot at the bar as he strides over to the group. There's some whispering, some hungry eyes tossed his way, and Kol easily gets himself invited into their booth.

She'd not all that surprised. He was pretty hot and the accent would score him points. She makes a mental note to keep an eye on the table, call in a favor or two with one of the cops who frequented the bar if Kol turned out to actually be a creep rather than just a dick.

She might do it even if he stayed perfectly respectable. She made no bones about her tendency towards pettiness and he _had_ pissed her off. Besides, as he'd pointed out, it's not like he didn't have more than enough money for bail.

Predictably, traffic in the bar picked up. It was Saturday and the usual mess of students poured in around eight and Caroline and the other bartender, a fellow fourth year student named Enzo, are run ragged. She keeps her promise to herself, scrutinizes the booth with the birthday girl and Kol a couple times an hour. They order tray upon tray of drinks and while Kol seems to be flirting with the entire table they don't look at all put out about it.

She's just gotten through another rush, winces when she catches sight of herself in the mirror, all frazzled curls and damp forehead. She's about to tell Enzo that she's going to take five when she catches sight of Professor Mikaelson approaching the bar.

Ugh, if he'd only come a _minute_ later.

She darts a glance at the hallway to the staffroom longingly, seriously considering making a run for it. She'd _thought_ she'd have another solid 48 hours before she had to see him again. Enzo's busy with another customer so when Klaus, ahem _Professor_ Mikaelson leans an elbow on the bar and offers her a smile she has no choice but to respond to. "Hey," she manages weakly, hoping that she hasn't spilled too much on her clothes.

_Not_ that she should be caring about such a thing. Since he was her professor and not someone she should be interested in impressing.

He returns her greeting with warmth that is so not good for her flustered nerves. "Evening, Caroline. I hope yours has been pleasant."

She laughs, smooths a hand over her hair, trying not to let her nose wrinkle at the knots she feels. "As pleasant as serving drinks and fried foods ever is, I suppose. Speaking of…" she hints, looking over her shoulder at the bottles which line the wall behind her.

"I'm not actually here for a drink." His eyes shift over the bar's patrons, a vague look of annoyance creasing his face. It disappears when he turns back to her and her smirks. "Not really my sort of crowd. I get more than enough of students on campus."

Caroline tries not to feel offended but his words sting.

"Have you happened upon my brother?" he continues. "I hadn't noticed he'd slipped out and I've a suspicion he ended up here. He was…" Klaus glances away, lips pressing together. "Well, let's just say Kol had a tendency to fixate."

"I noticed," Caroline spits out dryly. "Am really not a fan of his current fixation, which seems to be trying to figure out if I'm a conniving gold digger attempting to get into your pants so I can con you into paying my student loans."

Professor Mikaelson's eyes close, embarrassment clear in the clenching of his jaw.

"Yeah," she continues, "I suppose I should feel flattered he thinks I'm crafty enough for a long game. The easier play would just be to seduce you into giving me an A, right?"

He looks incredulous when his eyes pop open, "Likely. Though I've a sneaking suspicion you're not the type to go for _easy_."

It irks her that he's right. She's been wrong in so many of her assumptions about him that it's not fair that he seems to have her pegged. It's also not something she should care about and she needs to remember all the reasons why that is. A little distance would be helpful Caroline pushes back from the bar, jerking her thumb in Kol's direction, attempting to shift things back into businesslike territory. "He's over there trying to make some girls gone wild fantasy happen. Did you drive? Or do you want me to call you a cab? He's packed away enough drinks that I'm thinking walking him anywhere would suck."

Professor Mikaelson looks in the direction she'd indicated, a low hum of irritation coming from him. "It's not far but I did drive."

"Good luck," Caroline offers, turning away.

She stills when she feels his hand on her arm, the quick caress of his thumb across her pulse point. His grip drops quickly when she faces him once more. He leans forward, eyes serious, and Caroline finds herself mirroring him. "Before you go I'll apologize once more for Kol's behavior. I'm sorry for whatever accusations he levelled at you and if he made you uncomfortable. It's a very long story but it's my fault, not yours."

She practically has to bite her tongue to stop from asking for more information. Dangling something like that in front of her was just cruel. But she'd been admonishing herself for thinking of Professor Mikaelson in personal terms so digging in more deeply wasn't something she could allow herself to do. She waves off his apology, shrugs casually. "It's fine. I can hold my own."

Professor Mikaelson's grin is distinctly admiring, "Something I don't doubt in the slightest, love."

* * *

Caroline had been _so very close_ to skipping Monday's class. As expected her mind hadn't strayed far from Professor Mikaelson for the rest of weekend. Her usual distraction techniques were miserable failures but at least her apartment sparkled. Seeing him outside of the classroom had done _nothing_ to chill the crush that had begun to grow, and the tiny glimpse she'd gotten of who he was when not in lecture mode had only caused her questions about him to multiply.

And then there was the way he'd looked at her. Maybe it was just her reaching, and her romantic prospects _had_ been downright dismal for the last year, but she could have sworn there was something more than teacherly interest there. A crazy thought and one she'd tried to beat back. He'd been pretty disdainful of students, something she definitely was.

Yet, their conversation nagged at her. Why would he have apologized sincerely, dropped that cryptic tidbit about his brother's motivations? It was entirely possible that they wouldn't see each other again after the summer semester ended so why did it seem to matter to him if her feelings had been hurt?

It was an endless loop of mental arguments, disrupting her sleep and messing with her study schedule, and Caroline was driving herself crazy. She'd been cranky when she'd dragged herself out of bed and had watched the minutes tick away at her daytime job with dread. Upon getting back to her apartment she'd barely eaten anything for dinner, trying to talk herself out of going.

In the end, stubbornness won.

Kind of the story of her life.

She switches up her routine, however. Breezes in at 5:58 PM and climbs the stairs to grab a seat closer to the back. Keeps her head down as she plunks her laptop in front of her and only looks up when she hears Professor Mikaelson greet the class. She doesn't attempt to make eye contact, resolves to maintain a laser focus on her screen and her notes.

If she didn't look at him he couldn't look at her and put more crazy ideas into her head. Avoidance was a solid plan.

Thinking of her participation grade kind of kills her but she rationalizes it can't take _too_ much of a hit this late in the semester. She'd contributed _plenty_ every other week. Maybe Professor Mikaelson wouldn't even notice.

Caroline hadn't really been sure what she'd expected but in the end the three hour lecture passes anticlimactically. She stays in her seat during her break, munches on a protein bar she'd packed even though she's starving and dying to hit up the vending machines.

There's a pretty embarrassing stomach growl towards the end of the lecture and Caroline pointedly ignores the snickers of the few people sitting near enough to hear.

She _might_ mentally plot a few deaths but no one else will ever know that.

She's breathing a sigh of relief when class ends, grateful that the usual eager beavers and hair tossers swarm Klaus. She gathers her things and makes her way down the steps, only freezes when she hears her name called. Turning slowly, she fights the urge to cringe at Professor Mikaelson's raised brow, the interested looks she's getting from the students who'd been clamoring for his attention. "Yes, professor?" she asks.

"Are you feeling alright? You were awfully quiet."

She tells herself that she can't glare at him, not with witnesses. "Perfectly fine!" she chirps. "Long day, you know."

He inclines his head, "I do hope you're back to your usual self next class."

What was he _doing_? "I'll try," she tells him, managing a polite smile before hitching her bag over her shoulder.

He calls a goodnight after her and it takes a whole lot of Caroline's finely honed self-control not to return it with a gesture that involved her middle finger.

* * *

"Testing out this side of the bar, are we?" a low voice murmurs, just before the stool next to her is occupied. Caroline doesn't need to look to see who's seated himself next to her. She thinks about Professor Mikaelson _far_ more often then she should to not be able to recognize his voice. She dreams about it. Anxiety inducing nightmares about academic failure and the steamy kind that leave her kicking off her pajama bottoms and shoving her hand between her thighs to take care of the ache of that lingers when she wakes up halfway to coming.

Honestly, she's kind of hoping she's not way drunker than she should be and imagining him.

Only one way to find out.

She lifts her glass, a mock toast to her possibly imaginary friend, "I'm celebrating acing my final."

He laughs, "I like the confidence."

Caroline swivels to look at him, notes that he's once again dressed casually, no crisp button up in sight. She's thankful the evenings have gotten chilly as he's wearing a black jacket. If he's been wearing another one of those worn henleys it's possible she wouldn't have been able to keep her forearm ogling subtle. She _still_ wanted to see more of that tattoo. Wondering what it could be took up way too many of her waking hours.

Processing his words is slow going, her brain cells not in tip top shape, but a small twinge of alarm begins to sound, cutting through the warm haze she'd begun to drift in. Sure, she'd been a little distracted the last few weeks but she had buckled down and made herself concentrate. She'd walked out of the exam room feeling great, and zero doubts had crept in afterwards. Until now. "Should I not be?" she asks urgently.

Enzo interrupts them, plopping another Long Island Iced Tea (heavy on the tequila) in front of Caroline. She grabs at it and takes a long pull. "Anything for you?" he asks Kla… _Professor_ Mikaelson.

Caroline's torn on how she feels about Klaus' presence being acknowledged. At least she could be sure he was actually _there_ even if that meant her grade could possibly be in jeopardy.

She fidgets anxiously as he orders a drink and waits for Enzo to walk away. "I don't know how you did," he tells her quietly. "I made certain your test was in my TA's marking pile and Marcel has yet to finish."

Caroline sags in relief, "Don't freak me out like that!" she exclaims, reaching out without thinking and shoving him lightly. She snatches her hand back as soon as she realizes what she's done, curling her fingers and pressing her fist to her chest. "Oops, sorry. Inappropriate touching is inappropriate."

Klaus looks amused, leans over and taps her glass, "Just how many of these have you had?"

"I'm celebrating," Caroline repeats. "Celebrations do not include moderation. Duh."

"That's number four," Enzo informs Klaus, setting the drink he'd ordered down. Enzo levels Caroline with a severe look, "And she's not getting another."

"Enzo," Caroline whines. "What did I _just_ say?"

"Not sure but I'd wager it was nonsense, Gorgeous. You'll thank me in the morning."

She mutters some very unflattering things under her breath, only realizing she probably wasn't doing so great at volume control when she hears a throaty sound of amusement rumble out of Klaus. Professor Mikaelson.

Oh, screw it. Klaus.

Turning to face him again she squints at him in a way that she hopes conveys her displeasure. And she has _many _things to be displeased about. "What," she clips out, "is _so _funny?"

She almost falls off her stool when he reaches out and toys with one of her curls. He tugs it straight and lets it spring free, "I'm not laughing at you, sweetheart. I promise. I quite enjoy you like this. Relaxed and unguarded."

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Because it didn't seem like one. "As opposed to what, exactly? How _don't_ you like me?"

Klaus holds her gaze, "Well, I'm not fond of the avoiding me you've been doing."

Her mouth falls open, an embarrassing choking sound spilling out. "I haven't been avoiding you!" Caroline denies heatedly. "I didn't skip a _single _class."

A mental struggle she'd had _each_ and _every_ time. _He_ had no way of knowing that and the important thing was that she'd _always _gone.

"Yes, I noted you presence. Funnily enough it's hard not to notice when one of your students looks like they're set to face a firing squad when they walk into the classroom."

"And people say I'm dramatic. I wasn't _that_ bad," Caroline insists.

"And let's not forget your uncharacteristic quietness," Klaus continues, as if she hadn't spoken. "Your complete unwillingness to engage is a discussion if it meant speaking to me."

"Maybe I just wasn't all that into the topics, huh? Not everything is about you, Kla-Professor."

Shit. It was one thing to slip in the privacy of her mind. A whole other thing to do it out loud.

His head turns, eyes sparking knowingly, "You can call me by my name, you know. The department isn't much for ceremony and I'm not even your professor anymore."

"You can't know that," Caroline points out. "Maybe I'm in one of your fall sections."

"You aren't. I checked."

That gives her pause. "What? _Why_?"

He scoffs, "For precisely the same reason I made sure I didn't mark your final examination."

Caroline's beginning to think she's too drunk for this conversation. He's making very little sense. "I'm confused," she confesses.

"I paid attention to you in class, Caroline. As hard as I tried not to. Your face is exceptionally expressive, every opinion crystal clear."

Caroline frowns, "I should probably work on that if I'm gonna manage to be a ball bustin' corporate badass type."

He cracks a smile, "I suspect you'll manage just fine, love. You weren't aware anyone was paying attention, were you?"

She supposed that was true. Wait, did that mean he'd know about those few (okay fine, _many_) times she's checked him out?

Because that would be _super_ embarrassing. Was there a subtle way to ask? Could tipsy Caroline even _do_ subtle?

Probably not because Klaus has taken the opportunity to strip out of his jacket and she watches the act with lips parted, reaching out without thinking and laying a hand on his forearm once it's bared.

He'd just _had_ to choose go with short sleeves today. The universe was obviously conspiring against her.

He stills under her touch but she can't bring herself to tear her eyes away to gauge his reaction. "This has been driving me nuts," she mutters quietly, more to herself then him. Caroline traces the edges of the bottom of the tattoo, just under his elbow. Leaves, she can see now, tightly packed together in shades of black and charcoal. She can see a tiny bit of color, forest green and deep blue further up, barely manages to check the urge to push his sleeve up and study it more closely.

Klaus clears his throat and Caroline doesn't think she's imagining the extra grit of his voice, "What happened to 'inappropriate touching is inappropriate,' sweetheart?"

She feels heat flood her face, "Sorry," she stutters out. "I…"

His hand covers hers before she can pull away, pressing it more firmly against his skin, "I didn't say that I minded."

Caroline chances a glance up, swallows harshly at the heat she sees in his eyes. It makes her brave. "Tell me why you didn't want to mark my test, Klaus."

He draws a delicate pattern over the back of her wrist as he considers his answer. "I didn't want you to ever think you hadn't earned whatever grade you receive."

Too vague. She needs more. "And _why_ would I think that?"

He smiles, shakes his head, "Why do you think I came here tonight, love? I can assure you that everybottle of the liquor I have in my house is better than what you serve here."

Caroline was mildly comforted that she hadn't been _entirely _wrong about him. That statement was dripping with snobbery. "I'm sure but that doesn't really answer my question. You've indicated that you aren't fond of mingling with unwashed student types."

"I make an exception or two."

It dawns on her then, what he's been trying to say. Shock (and booze) make her loud, "Wait. You're here for _me_?"

Enzo's snort is incredulous, "Gorgeous, I could have told you that ten minutes ago."

"Stop eavesdropping, Enzo!" Caroline hisses, glaring at him menacingly.

He grins, unrepentant, "Sorry. I can't resist a scandal. Dallying with a professor is naughty, Caroline. And here I thought you were a bit dull."

Caroline draws in a calming breath, "First, as you heard, there's been no dallying. Second, if you don't shut up I'm going to tell Bonnie we have mice. And then she'll never set foot in this place again."

He pantomimes zipping his lips, moving down to the far end of the bar to at least give them the illusion of privacy. At least his ridiculously transparent crush was good for _something_. When she turns back to Klaus he seems to be hiding a smile. "You seem most adept at that 'ball busting' you were worried about earlier."

"Don't try to distract me," she scolds him. He had to know that the half-smile thing he was doing made the most of his dimples and it was totally unsportsmanlike.

"I'm not trying to, honestly. Though I believe this might be a conversation better had when you're a little more clear headed."

Caroline doesn't try to stifle a noise of exasperation and throws her hands up, "You can't just drop something like _that_ in my lap and slap a 'to be continued' on it. I dwell, Klaus. I'm a dweller and I _already_ need you to stop interrupting my beauty sleep. You are so _annoying_."

"Have I been interrupting your sleep?" he murmurs, sounding intrigued. "I can't say I'm sorry about that, love. Well, perhaps sorry that it's only been a version of me inside your head and _I've_ not had the pleasure."

Well, that was nice for him but he didn't have to painstakingly apply under eye concealer every morning did he? Also, that last bit wasn't going to make her sex dreams go away _at all_. Caroline refuses to rise to that bit of bait and stroke his ego anymore, "Why are you at my bar, Klaus?" she demands.

"I'm here because I suspect it would be very easy for me to fancy you, Caroline. And now that you're no longer my student I find I am out of reasons for why I shouldn't. Would you join me for lunch tomorrow?"

She clamps her teeth together so an instinctive 'yes' can't burst free. And not even just because she wants to play it a _little_ cool.

She had to think about this. Wrap her head around the fact that she really hadn't needed to tell herself _not_ to think about him, that he'd had thoughts of his own and was willing to act on them. Caroline had always been a big believer in action, had gotten tired of being the one to always do it. The fact that Klaus is stepping up, _pursuing_ her, only makes her want him more. Still, that wasn't enough reason to act without thinking.

There were possible issues to consider (which was why Caroline was ignoring the boozed up devil on her shoulder urging her to drag him into the bathroom and finally get her hands, maybe even her mouth, on him and his distracting tattoo). Klaus might no longer be _her_ professor but he was still _a_ professor. It was complicated, not something she could dive right into. Besides, she actually can't tomorrow. She tells him so, "It's the last day at my summer position. My boss is treating the interns to lunch."

"Perhaps dinner?" he offers and Caroline is pretty freaking charmed that he's not trying to hide a hint of hopefulness.

Still, she shakes her head. "I'm going out for 'Yay We're Done!' drinks with my fellow interns." She sits up and fishes her phone out of her back pocket, unlocking it and sliding it over. "Put your number in. I'll text you and we can figure something out."

_After_ she had time to make a couple pro/con lists.

* * *

She takes three days to weigh her options before contacting Klaus. Makes more than one list, digs into the rules she can find pertaining to their situation before deciding that getting to know Klaus wouldn't be the worst thing. With certain conditions.

**Caroline [10:39 AM]:** So I decided that I can do lunch.

**Caroline [10:39 AM]:** But I want to keep it private. Is that okay?

**Klaus [10:40 AM]: **Ashamed of me already?

**Caroline [10:41 AM]:** Oh, please. Who do you think would get the brunt of the nasty comments if someone who recognized us both from school saw us on a date type outing? Sexism: still a thing.

**Klaus [10:42 AM]:** Date type outing? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

That leaves Caroline a tiny bit alarmed even if he's probably joking. Her early research had put him as still in his 20's but had those articles been outdated? She can't remember if any of the recent ones - about how he'd stepped down from his family's company - had said the same.

She decides to ask.

**Caroline [10:45 AM]:** Wait, how old *are* you? It occurs to me that you're rich enough to have maybe had some work done. If you're forty you're going to need to delete my number.

**Caroline [10:45 AM]: **My parents would kill me.

His reply is prompt and Caroline's relief immediate.

**Klaus [10:46 AM]: **28 as of last July.

**Caroline [10:46 AM]:** Oh. Well. Happy Belated Birthday!

**Klaus [10:47 AM]:** Thank you, sweetheart. Do I still need to delete your number? I certainly hope not...

**Caroline [10:49 AM]: **I'll be 23 in October so I think we're good. Gonna have to gloss over the whole how we met thing though. Both my parents own multiple guns, so…

**Klaus [10:50 AM]:** We're intelligent people. I'm sure we can think of something.

Great. They'd kind of just casually made plans for meeting her parents. That was _definitely_ getting a little ahead of themselves.

Maybe she takes too long to reply because Klaus decides to change the subject.

**Klaus [10:53 AM]:** What did you have in mind for lunch?

**Caroline [10:54 AM]:** My place? I'm done with classes at 1 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So lunch at 1:30? Does that work with your schedule?

She thought it did. She'd checked his classes and posted office hours - Caroline was nothing if not thorough - but it was possible he had other things going on.

**Klaus [10:56 AM]:** I can make it work. Did you want to do tomorrow? Or Thursday?

**Caroline [10:56 AM]:** Tomorrow.

It would allow her less time to obsess.

**Klaus [10:57 AM]: **I look forward to it. How about I pick up lunch?

Caroline wasn't going to turn down that offer. Cooking was not her favourite pastime.

**Caroline [10:57 AM]:** Great! :)

Caroline texted him her address, a few directions, and then made herself put her phone down before she was tempted to keep the conversation going. She's pleased, though not exactly surprised, to find that Klaus is a good texter, every bit as engaging as he was in person. That was harder to find than Caroline thought it should be. She tosses a magazine on top of her phone for good measure. As much as she'd like to waste away the afternoon smiling like a dork at her screen and getting her flirt on she actually had to get some course reading accomplished.

Just in case tomorrow went well and Klaus ended up staying for dinner too.

_Just_ to talk.

Taking it slow was still the smart play and, like Klaus had said, they were both _very_ smart.

* * *

Lunch is going even better than anticipated and Caroline's grasp on her goals - getting to know Klaus pre-jumping his bones - is slipping alarmingly fast for such a goal oriented individual.

It's even harder because she knows he wouldn't mind.

There'd been a buzz from downstairs at exactly 1:29 PM and Caroline had awarded Klaus a few points for punctuality. It was a quality that was important to her, few things grated like having her time wasted, and she'd wondered if that was another one of her quirks he's already gotten pegged.

She'd had a fleeting thought that maybe she needed to work on being a little more mysterious. At least until the field was a little more even and she'd solved a couple pressing Klaus-mysteries.

Caroline planned to start with his tattoo and exactly where it ended. Maybe dig into some of his brother's more cryptic remarks if that went well.

She'd let him up, run one last critical eye over her apartment while she'd waited, grateful it was still pristine after her weekend cleaning binge. Her place was tiny, a studio that's only saving grace was an excellent balcony, and she's not ashamed that inviting him to her place was a little bit of a test to see how deep his snobbery ran. If he made judge-y eyes at her cute but thrifted furniture things were probably going to fizzle pretty quickly.

She'd sacrificed her college fund for her mom's health and she had zero regrets about it, would not listen to any snide comments about how 'quaint' the way she lived was.

Been there, done that, sent the guy home without any skin on skin contact.

Klaus had surprised her with a kiss on the cheek when he'd entered, had laid a hand on her waist and held her steady and then had kindly ignored her struck dumbness as she'd processed how good it felt to be that close to him.

When she'd gathered her composure she'd turned to find him pulling _heavenly_ smelling food out of a takeout bag. "I thought it best to play it safe until I know your preferences a little better. I got a bit of a number of things from a restaurant I'm fond of."

He'd gotten more points for thoughtfulness. Caroline wasn't exactly picky but she had a few definite food no goes.

See: cottage cheese, shudder.

She'd jumped into action, retrieved plates and utensils, found her inner hostess and offered him a drink before suggesting they eat in her living area.

She had a small love seat and an armchair, a tiny living area separated from her bed by a wooden screen. Caroline had picked the chair for herself though that hadn't lasted long on it, only until they were done with their food and he'd tempted her to move into the spot next to him with a very large piece of cake.

It only made sense to share it.

Caroline had always purposefully kept a careful physical distance from Klaus, one befitting their student-teacher dynamic. She'd only approached him outside of class time twice and both times she'd been _very _aware of maintaining an appropriate bubble of space between them. She'd touched him without thinking the other night when she'd been drunk and it's surprisingly easy to do while sober and she's _definitely_ enjoying it. Every brush of their hands, the occasional touch to make a point, reverberates through her, leaving her skin humming and her senses extra tuned to him.

She's _missed_ the feeling, the anticipation of something great to come.

Klaus tucked into the corner of the loveseat and she's facing him, cross-legged with her shin resting against his thigh. She could have retreated after they'd devoured the cake but she'd found that she really hadn't wanted to. During the first few lulls in the conversation, only natural in a getting to know you period, she'd wondered if maybe she should get up but each time one of them had introduced a new topic, or asked a question, and soon Caroline was sufficiently distracted, either speaking animatedly (with gestures because that's just how she rolled) or listening intently to Klaus speak.

She's startled when the alarm on her phone sounds, the one that goes off promptly every day at 5 PM. As she reaches over to turn it off her first thought is that she hopes Klaus doesn't ask about it (discussing birth control was so not a part of taking it slow) and the second is that she can't believe _hours_ had passed so easily. His phone makes a similar shrill noise immediately after hers and he leans forward to fish it out of his back pocket. "I've got a class at 6," he explains, sounding just a touch put out. "So I'll need to excuse myself. I had a lovely time, Caroline."

He pushes himself to his feet, offers her a hand. Caroline takes it, smiling as she stands, "I did too. Thanks for lunch."

He watches her carefully as he steps closer. Caroline makes no move to retreat, not even when his hand slips up her arm, coming to rest gently over the side of her neck, his thumb feathering over her collarbone absently. "Does that mean we can do this again sometime?"

Caroline takes a deep breath, hoping he won't be offended by what she has to say. "We can. If we do something like this."

"Something just the two of us, behind closed doors?" Klaus asks and she can't quite read the tone. She thinks, or maybe just hopes, that it's more curious than pissed.

She nods, "And it's really not a shame thing, I promise. After I've graduated I'll eat dinner with you at every restaurant in town if you want. It's just that I've dealt with a lot of future American Psycho types over the last four years who have insinuated that I didn't earn my grades fairly and I don't want to give them any more ammunition until I have a diploma in hand. And most of my professors respect me but I'm sure you've noticed a bad douchey apple or two at staff meetings."

His eyes narrow slightly in anger as she speaks even though his touch remains steady. "I am highly tempted to ask for those student's names and do my best to make things very difficult if any of those repulsive _boys _make their way into my classes."

Sweet, but not necessary. Caroline steps into him, letting her body graze his, "Thanks, but I've gotten revenge on most of them already."

His eyebrow arch up in interest, "Most?"

"I have a mental list," Caroline tells him, attempting to look innocent. "It'll be done by the end of the semester."

"Devious," Klaus murmurs approvingly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Still fancy me?" Caroline teases, resting her hands on his chest.

"More than ever."

The joke that had been on the tip of her tongue never makes it out, Klaus uses his hold on her to nudge her head up, slanting his lips over hers. Caroline inhales sharply at the first brush, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. One of his hands slides into her hair, the other arm bands around her waist, hauling her body into his as he licks into her mouth and swallows her moan. There's nothing slow or questioning in this kiss, it's all heat and want and certainty, a little rough and a lot suggestive, wet glides and taunting sucks that leave Caroline short of breath and grinding her hips onto his. He groans and returns the pressure for one agonizing moment, hand slipping just under her top to sweep up the bare skin of her back, but then he's gone, a whole two feet away from her, fists clenched at his sides.

Caroline sucks in a harsh breath, and she knows she's eyeing him hungrily, his dark eyes and wet lips, shirt askew from her grasping hands, all make her want to _pounce_.

"Class," he rasps out. "I have to teach a bloody class."

Stupid adult responsibilities.

Caroline closes her eyes and presses her lips together, tells herself she only had to compose herself enough to see him off.

_She _didn't have to stand in front of a couple dozen students in under an hour. She could totally hang out in the privacy of her own home and let her mind fill in the blanks about what could have happened if Klaus didn't have to leave. Caroline counts to ten, finds Klaus in much the same state when her eyes drift open, looking aroused and annoyed and far too tempting. "This weekend," she blurts out. "Do you wanna…"

Klaus cuts her off with a smirk, "Be your dirty little secret once again? I'd like nothing more."

Caroline decides to let the joke slide. He's not actually the least bit miffed and sneaking around was supposed to be hot, right? "I'm off Saturday night but I've got the Sunday afternoon shift at the bar."

"Come over," Klaus replies. "I'll make you dinner."

Caroline nods her acceptance, biting her lip to keep her smile under control, and tips her head towards the door questioningly. "I guess you've got to go?" His expression shifts to resignation and he makes to leave, movements slow and clearly unenthusiastic. "What do you teach tonight?" Caroline asks, attempting to distract him.

"An intro course. The one I'm most dreading, to be honest."

Caroline doesn't blame him, "Don't scare the tiny baby students, okay? I'm pretty sure you've got the hot rating in the bag but you don't want to be known as mean or scary on ratemyprofessors."

"Really? I rather think the opposite. I'll get fewer bothersome inquiries if students think I'm an ogre, won't I?"

Caroline can't hold back an eye roll and she shoves him lightly, "Already planning on being a slacker prof, huh? And before you've even gotten a whole year in. _Might_ be a record."

Klaus moves quickly, stepping back into her space until she's pressed against the wall next to her door, "The idea had some appeal," he tells her, resting his palms on either side of her head. "I'm beginning to believe that I'll have _plenty_ of things I'd rather be doing. I can think of quite a few right now. Do you have any idea how distracting it was knowing that your bed was only a few steps from where we were sitting?" His head dips, lips brushing lightly down her throat. Caroline's head tips back and she digs her nails into the wall to keep from reaching for him. They settle where her shoulder begins to curve, and the rasp of his tongue against her skin, the faint nip of his teeth had her nipples tightening and her thighs clenching together. "What I wouldn't give to have you on it and wearing considerably less clothing."

Caroline has a good idea, would do all sorts of underhanded things herself to get him naked. Her body is screaming at her that slow was a god awful idea and her brain isn't far behind, tempted by the heat between them.

It's tough to focus on Klaus' more innocent question, and he knows it, a tinge of amusement easy to spot, "Can I call you when I'm finished, love? I should be home at around 9:30. We can firm up our plans for this weekend."

She swallows but her agreement comes out kind of hoarse and she can feel Klaus smile against her skin. He kisses her cheek once more, lips lingering near her ear, "Wonderful. I'll speak to you later, Caroline."

Klaus lets himself out quickly and Caroline remains resting against the wall for a long minute. Her heart is thumping and her legs actually feel a little shaky, like she'd just climbed all the stairs to her apartment at a dead sprint. After a couple of measly, fully clothed, kisses.

When she feels like she can walk without doing her very best impression of a swooning damsel Caroline pushes off from the wall, fingers going to the buttons of her cardigan as she makes a beeline for her bathroom. Her original plan stood. She'd consider, at length, the possibilities of just how good it'll be once she and Klaus do more than kiss.

Maybe she'll even taunt Klaus a little bit, when he calls, about what she's going to get up to in her extra-long shower. Caroline wasn't an idiot, she'd seen what he'd done, the way he'd enjoyed the eager way she'd soaked in his words, knew that he'd liked watching her begin to fall apart under the fairly innocent touches of his mouth.

What would it be like to listen to his breathing grow uneven, his tone strained, as she described how she'd finished what he'd started?

She'd totally been upfront about her belief in payback. Caroline wondered if Klaus would like it as much when he was her target.


	73. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 8

**Notes:** For the Klaroline + Regency theme of 25daysofklaroline. Was not planning on doing this day but this prompt appeared in my Tumblr inbox at the exact right time and I couldn't resist it. Historical romances and sex pollen are two of my biggest weaknesses.

**There's A Fire**

**(Prompt: "heyy, could you do a regency + sex pollen fic? like Caroline comes into contact with the pollen and she asks for Klaus' help, but set in the 1800's?" Title from the OK Go song of the same name. SMUT.)**

It's a beautiful day, cloudless skies stretching above her and a pleasant breeze rustling through the trees that dot the estate.

Caroline's enjoying the fresh air and humming quietly to herself. She's got her face turned up to bask in the warmth of the late morning sun, not caring about the scolding she's sure to receive from her lady's maid if her skin turns more golden or if, horror of horrors, the scattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks becomes more pronounced.

Victoria remained completely aghast at Caroline's lack of concern for her complexion.

The sun simply feels far too nice after the hours she's spent cooped up in her laboratory. All she needs now is a proper meal, perhaps a nap in her actual bed. The settee she's caught scant hours of rest on while her latest idea nagged at her was dreadfully uncomfortable.

Perhaps she'll speak to one of the footmen about dismantling a bed from one of the guest rooms and relocating it. Caroline was short on company as it was, her family distant and friends busy. She doubted the loss of one spare bed would be an issue.

Distracted as she is Caroline starts when she notices another person's nearby. She lets out an embarrassing squeak, stopping short and nearly stumbling when a man unfolds from a crouch at the end of the drive. He'd been obscured by her rose bushes and he sweeps his hat off his head when he spots her. "I beg your pardon, Miss. Startling you was not my intention."

Caroline's taken aback by the accent - few foreigners venture this far into the countryside. She's _never_ come across such a crisp patrician inflection in this part of rural Virginia. She's not heard a similar lilt in over two years, not since the last time she'd ventured into town society when her parents had still been alive.

How different her life had been then.

Caroline shakes the thought away for it's far too gloomy for such a lovely day. She makes an effort to smooth down the front of her dress as she approaches the stranger. It's hopelessly wrinkled, she knows, and not all that attractive to begin with but the gesture is automatic. Her visitor regards her patiently, no hint of annoyance with her lack of manners though his eyes seem to be cataloging her person carefully.

She offers him a smile and casts her eyes over him in an assessing sweep of her own. She grows even more embarrassed by her disheveled state when she realizes he's _very_ handsome, with dark blonde curls and a firm jaw, a hint of a dimple carved into his cheek by the half smile that curves his well-formed lips.

His clothing is obviously expensive, perfectly tailored to his lean frame, and Caroline wonders what on earth he could possibly be doing _here_ in her sleepy corner of Virginia.

She dips a quick curtsy, attempting hide her ungloved and ink stained hand in the gray folds of her skirt. "It's perfectly fine, sir. I should have been more aware of my surroundings."

He inclines his head, "Your lack of attention is understandable. I doubt there's much in the way of danger in these parts."

Two years ago Caroline would have agreed. Now, fully aware that the world contained greater threats than carriage robbers or vandals, she keeps her smile polite but maintains a wary distance. "May I ask what brings you to my home?"

A fleeting flash of surprise lifts his brows though it dissipates quickly. "Are you Miss Caroline Forbes?" he asks curiously.

"I am."

He bows, his eyes never leaving hers. "Then I am delighted to make your acquaintance. And I'll apologize again, I should have introduced myself but you're… not quite what I expected."

Caroline's brows furrow in confusion wondering if she should be offended, "And what did you expect?"

He straightens, head tipping to the side as his eyes drift down her body, appreciation evident. They lift back to her face quickly, saving the action from being overly uncouth. "Truthfully? I'd assumed you'd be plain. Silly, since I've met a great many people who managed to be beautiful _and_ intelligent and a great many homely dullards. It's just, I've found girls your age, with your means often have…shall we say _narrow_ interests."

_Now_ she was a little offended and it's obvious in the fast, harsh clip of her next words. "Then I suspect you know _very_ few 'girls my age,' sir. Or at least you only know them by the shallowest of acquaintance. It's frowned upon for one of my sex to be too knowledgeable about subjects thought unladylike. Such subjects, if you truly think about it, encompass nearly everything one _could_ be interested save perhaps fashion or horses or a few meagre artistic pursuits."

His lips twitch in amusement and Caroline knows her rant has left her color high, "Touché, love." He continues before she can process the endearment, taking a few steps forward so that the foliage that lines the drive no longer separates them. "I am Niklaus. From New Orleans. We've been corresponding about your research endeavours. I had some business close by so I thought…"

Caroline's eyes widen in recognition, a thrum of excitement building. She'd been hoping for something from him, had made the walk down the long drive herself, too impatient to wait for the post to be delivered with her afternoon tea. She'd done so daily for the last fortnight and had begun to worry about the lack of word. She'd received letters from Niklaus, and the occasional package - usually volumes he'd thought would be helpful to her though the vervain imbued necklace he'd sent lay tucked beneath her dress even now – weekly for close to eight months now.

She supposes she'll have to forgive him for assuming her plain because he's not at all how she'd pictured him either. In her mind Niklaus had been bookish, bespeckled and on the shy side. She'd thought that a man who assisted a priest, even one who hunted vampires in his spare time, would be nondescript, brown hair, brown eyes, and average in all ways.

The Niklaus before her was _none_ of those things.

He nods down at the roses, "These are the flowers you wrote of? I think you were a bit modest. They're lovely."

Caroline tries not to preen but she _is_ proud of her work. Flowers, and her irritation at not being able to find a variety that had matched her vision for her parent's 20th wedding anniversary celebration, had been her first foray into experimentation. She'd been only 13, somewhat spoiled, and completely unaware that the world could not always be bent to her whims. She'd vaguely recalled a discussion about something called cross breeding at a supper table with a botanist friend of her father's and had delved into that section of the library to see if she could perhaps _make_ the flowers in her mind a reality.

Finding their collection of books on the subject insufficient for her aims she'd asked for more. They'd been supplied with some amusement, her parent's accustomed to her single mindedness and likely grateful that she was channeling her boundless energy into something quiet and sedate for once.

The gardener had initially been tolerant of Caroline monopolizing a corner of one of the greenhouses. His patience had lessened when her experiments multiplied and expanded. A structure was built away from the main house, simple but functional and complete with its own small greenhouse, and Caroline was given the run of it.

Twelve years later and it's still her favorite place in the world even if her research interests have shifted dramatically.

She reaches out to brush her fingers over a half-open bloom, "Thank you. I'm afraid I've neglected them recently though they seem to be flourishing."

"And how is your current _project_ going?"

The breath she blows out is frustrated, "Stalled. I need fresher samples. Jeremy and Tyler do their best to send the blood quickly but by the time it gets here…"

Sometimes the blood sample was too dried out to be much use, the victim of a sloppy seal. More often the blood she had to work with was in various states of coagulation. Caroline had a working theory that the extent of it was related to the age of the vampire the blood had been taken from though she hadn't ruled out the possibility that it was a matter of a vampire's feeding intervals.

Niklaus makes a show of glancing around, "I doubt you have too many vampires nearby. I imagine it would be difficult to sustain oneself discretely in such a sparsely populated area."

She sighs, "No, you're correct. Not that I would really _know_. I find myself reluctant to venture out after dark since I first read my father's journals. I see few people and I scrutinize each for visible lapis lazuli and have yet to find a trace."

"That sounds a bit… lonely," Niklaus remarks.

If he pities her he's kind enough to hide it but Caroline still forces a bright smile, "It's not so bad. The mountain of sympathy food and flood of mourners after each of my parent's deaths got a little… cloying in all honesty. I've grown comfortable in my own company. Possibly too comfortable," she finishes with a significant glance down at her attire.

Her father had passed away suddenly eleven months after her mother's long battle with illness had been lost. Caroline hadn't bothered to order new mourning dresses and the simple grey one she wears is worn and outdated.

She's also corset less and without stockings or drawers in deference to the summer heat. She'd not thought she would see a soul other than those in her employ today and Caroline hopes Niklaus has no inkling of how improperly she is attired. "I apologize for not being in a fit state to receive you but I can offer you some refreshment. However did you get here?" she asks.

He steps away from her and whistles softly and Caroline hears a distinct set of footsteps just before a large black horse emerges from a clump of trees on the opposite side of the lane. The animal makes his way over to them, nudging at Klaus' shoulder. He pats the horse's neck affectionately, "Caroline meet Hrimfaxi. He wandered off when I got distracted."

Caroline reaches out to stroke the horse's snout, "That's quite a name."

He smiles, "I grew up with tales of Norse mythology. We mostly call him Hrim. Less pretentious."

"He's beautiful enough that I'd forgive him for being conceited."

"Careful, sweetheart," Niklaus teases, "Before long I'll know all your weaknesses."

It was a little late for that to be a concern because he knew a fair few already. Personal tidbits, opinions and anecdotes, had begun to slip into their letters ages ago. These days each one was pages long, more about _them_ than about vampires and how to fight them. Niklaus sent her sketches, detailed studies of buildings in New Orleans or scraps of remembrances from his travels. He complained about his siblings at length and had proven to be witty and knowledgeable about a great many subjects. Caroline felt like she _knew_ him.

"Then you'll just have to confess some of your own, won't you?" Caroline replies. It comes out flirtier than she'd meant it too and she glances away, sure her cheeks are stained pink. She turns away slightly, ducking her head. "How about we begin with how you take your tea, the sort of sandwiches you prefer?"

There. That was a reasonably smooth recovery. Hopefully Niklaus wouldn't be uncomfortable now. Men often got ridiculous notions, assumed a woman was angling for a marriage proposal instead of simply being friendly, and got defensive.

Caroline had little desire to be tied down. Her parent's relationship had been singular, a marriage built on deep friendship and respect rather than passion. Her father had kept company with his secretary, her mother discretely with their groom. They'd explained to Caroline, once they thought she was old enough, that they loved one another but had never been _in_ love. They'd found that in other people, her father had told her gently, and agreed that they wanted each other to be happy but didn't want to risk censure by allowing others to know their circumstances.

She hadn't quite understood at the time but as an adult had witnessed just how cruel some people could be to those who didn't fit in. Her parent's desire for privacy made perfect sense in hindsight.

Caroline had benefited in many ways. Their beliefs, and relatively reclusive lifestyle, her allowed her parents to give her more freedom than any of her acquaintances had enjoyed. She was certain a husband would be stifling and as her parents had left her the means to support herself comfortably she saw no reason to hunt for one. A distant aunt often wrote to Caroline, bemoaning her lack of supervision. Caroline always burned those letters. She was of the mind that, having passed her 25th birthday, she did not _need_ a chaperone. Young men were allowed to live alone and, as she had no plans to marry, who cared if her reputation was less than pristine?

Certainly not her.

Perhaps she'd take a lover someday but she liked being able to make her own choices. A husband to whom she's be forced to surrender her name, who would be given all sorts of legal authority over her and her affairs, was an unappealing prospect.

"Might we dine in your laboratory?" Niklaus asks. "I confess I am dying to see it."

She _had_ written about it an awful lot so Caroline supposed that made sense. "It's not exactly tidy," she warns him. "I don't like the maids messing with my things and I've been too busy to really pick up after myself these last few days."

He grins, "I won't mind, I assure you. We're friends, are we not? Surely a little messiness is forgivable.

He offers her his arm and Caroline rests her hand in the crook of it. "Only if you _promise_ not to think less of me."

"I would never," he tells her solemnly but with a hint of mischief.

Caroline will hold him to it, however. "We can drop Hrim off with a groom and I'll send a stable boy to the kitchens."

Niklaus nods approvingly, "A sound plan, love. Lead the way."

* * *

Caroline Forbes is a peculiar little thing.

Klaus had been expecting mousy, the sort of chit who compensated for her lack of beauty and charm with book smarts and a stubborn desire to be acknowledged for them.

He'd thought she was a servant when he'd first laid eyes on her, the simple dress and single unravelling plait fooling him. He'd found himself wondering how she'd taste as he'd observed her, so pretty in the morning light. He'd wondered if he could convince her to sneak off from her duties so that he could discover her particular flavor before he set the estate on fire and collected Caroline Forbes.

What a difference a quarter of an hour can make.

When they'd initially begun corresponding Klaus had assumed he'd kill her. Caroline had reached out to a friend of her father's upon finding the truth of the supernatural in the late William Forbes' things, a friend who Klaus had recently eaten.

The man had been _completely_ unreasonable, irritatingly hell bent on riling up humans with the intent of driving vampires out of New Orleans, and unwilling to negotiate as his predecessors had been. Caroline's letter had been open on the desk he'd bled out on and the pretty, feminine hand had caught Klaus' attention. He'd snatched up the paper before blood could sully it.

His first response had mostly been written out of boredom, encouraged by a bottle of whiskey Klaus had falsified an identity and answered a few of her questions. Harmless things really, confirming facts that anyone with a modicum of knowledge would already know.

A simple whim with such complicated reverberations.

Klaus had made a point to dig into Caroline's father's life once his relationship with her began to evolve beyond the perfunctory. Bill Forbes by all reports had been _very _knowledgeable. A fair contingent of vampires gave Virginia a wide berth though Klaus expected that would change once news of his death circulated.

He himself had kept it quiet. Caroline's second letter had sparked his interest and she'd managed to keep it with each subsequent one, a rarity in Klaus' lifetime. Few humans had ever been more than food, fewer still inspired thoughts of an admiring nature in him. Better to keep other vampires from her path and prevent her activities from becoming known.

Caroline's mind was sharp, her thirst for knowledge nearly insatiable. She'd been reading about blood transfusions, she'd written early on. Theories about why they worked and why they sometimes didn't. Wondering if that could be applicable to vampires somehow. If different humans had different blood, she'd theorized, couldn't that be useful?

She'd sketched out ideas for weaponizing human blood and Klaus had almost been impressed by the ingenuity. He'd humoured her, letting her bounce ideas off of him, sending her grimoires and texts that he could spare that were relevant to the research path she was treading. Tiny details about her life began to pepper her letters, other interests and experiments she was considering. Klaus had never been much for the sciences but he'd found her clear enthusiasm charming, her glee when things went well flooding the pages in the exuberant loops and whirls of her writing.

Such a zest for life was remarkable, _diverting_, and could very well be useful.

He'd found his replies leaning personal as well, had opened up more than he usually did, rationalizing that a human girl he'd never meet, who didn't even know who or _what _he was, couldn't possibly pose a threat to him. There was a freedom in it, one he'd not enjoyed since he'd woken up with a desperate thirst that could only be sated by blood.

Klaus hadn't considered the possibility that she'd actually _get_ anywhere with her anti-vampire plans.

She'd mentioned a pair of protégés of her father's that she'd contacted and how they were helping her with her research. When she'd begun detailing trials using the vampire blood they collected, her observations thorough and helping her to refine her theories, Klaus had decided that it was best he intervene. He was fairly certain that nothing she could come up with would harm him or his siblings but there was always the possibility that she would again evolve and surprise him.

Best to sway her over to his side before such a thing could occur. So few people managed to exceed his expectations. Klaus thought it prudent not to underestimate Caroline. He'd begun arranging for things to be handled in New Orleans in his absence while he made the trek north.

He would never have admitted it but he made the trip eagerly, delighted for the excuse to seek Caroline out in person and see if she was as clever as her letters promised.

He'd been amused that she lived so close to the where the village he'd been born in had been situated, the borders of her estate skirting the forests he'd roamed as a child. He'd not been back since he and his siblings had fled after slaughtering their neighbors and Klaus had been struck by how familiar the air had smelled.

He'd have to come back someday, perhaps bring the rest of his family.

Once ensconced in her laboratory Klaus listens to Caroline chatter as she flits about the small room, throwing open curtains and making faces as the dust motes sparkle in the light flooding through the windows. The space she used to work in was not nearly as unkempt as she'd indicated, Klaus thought he discerned a certain organizational system even among piles of books and notes that seemed haphazard. He's not quite absorbing her words, simply enjoying the sound of her voice. He believes he detects a hint of nerves in her manner now, the pitch she's speaking in has ticked up and her hands are twisting together like she can't quite decide what to do with them. There's a sharp knock at the door and a footman enters with a tray, setting it on the end of a settee for lack of a better place. "Will that be all, Miss?" he asks and Klaus fights a smile at the narrow eyed look the man favors him with.

_Someone _was a bit protective of their employer. It was almost sweet if completely misguided. Klaus had long since decided that Caroline was far too interesting, had too much potential, to simply _kill_. He had no such qualms about disposing of her help should they displease him or get in his way.

He was planning on giving Caroline a few options, had definite preferences for which one she chose and ideas about the best way to lead her in that direction.

After meeting her he was more certain than ever that she would make a glorious vampire. Most humans of this time were so very close minded and uncreative. Caroline was an exception, brilliant and unconventional, and it would be a shame if she aged and faded away. Her startling beauty and the innate sensuality with which she moved were unexpected, though not unwelcome, bonuses in Klaus' eyes.

He'd planned to set her free after she'd been turned, check up on her in a century or so to see if time had ruined her or made her more resilient. He might have to revise, see if she'd like to share his company for a while.

Klaus knew that he could be _very _convincing.

Before meeting Caroline he'd _thought_ the best method of swaying her would be to dangle the promise of knowledge. Appeal to her academic soul and expound on how things have changed in the years he'd been alive and tempt her with possible discoveries of the future. Things Caroline could be a part of if she chose to apply her agile mind to such pursuits. That remains the _first_ tactic he intends to employ. New options have begun to occur to him, techniques that would be enjoyable for Klaus too, ways to shut down her sense of logic and reason and tease out her basest desires.

He suspects her appetite for all knowledge, even the prurient kind, would be limitless and that she'd be a spectacular pupil, alternately demanding and eager to please.

He's trying _very_ hard not to look at Caroline, unwilling to risk spooking her should she glean an inkling of what he's thinking. Klaus feigns interest in the items scattered throughout the room, both scientific and magical. The sight of the soft unfettered swells of her breasts pressing against the bodice of her dress is a distraction from his aims, has him wondering just what else she's _not _wearing.

Caroline smiles at her footman, "The tray will be all for now. Thank you, Alaric. Tell the cook that I'm not sure what time I'll be in for dinner. Mr…" her brows furrow quizzically and Klaus pretends he's not listening so he doesn't have to supply his name. Caroline shakes her head, dislodging more curls from her braid. "Well, we've much to discuss and I'm not sure how long it will take."

The footman eyes Klaus once more, distinctly untrusting. "Would you like me to stay, Miss? Forgive me for speaking out of turn but it's not proper to…"

Caroline cuts him off with an impatient noise, her smile turning brittle, "You've worked in this household long enough to know that we're not particularly concerned with _proper_, haven't you? Shut the door when you leave, if you please."

Alaric's face is stony, his movements slow, but he does as he's bid. Caroline turns to Klaus once they're alone, her expression softening, and a hint of embarrassment visible. She toys with the end of her braid, "I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be," Klaus tells her. "It's admirable that you inspire such loyalty."

Her face clears, smile once again genuine. "I suppose so. Alaric was a good friend of my fathers. I've known him since I was a baby. He's a bit..."

"Overbearing?" Klaus supplies.

She doesn't deny it. "He means well."

Caroline walks in his direction, eyes drifting down to the vials he's been examining. They're not labeled, filled with a pale purple powder that's familiar though Klaus can't quite place it. Caroline's eyes widen, her hand flying out to land on his arm. "Oh, _please _don't touch those."

Klaus lifts a brow at the urgency in her tone, glancing down once more. "What's in them?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Caroline admits. "I just received them last week. Jeremy apparently inhaled it and had a terrible reaction. They've asked me to see if I can figure out what sort of plant it comes from, look into an antidote just in case they come across it again. Tyler's telegram left out the symptoms but strongly urged caution. I'm not to touch it with my skin or breathe any of it in so you probably shouldn't either."

"I appreciate the concern, love." She had no way of knowing, _yet_, that Klaus wasn't susceptible to the same sorts of toxins that she and her human friends were. The evidence that she cared about him was oddly… nice.

Caroline drops her hand, perhaps realizing just how tightly she was gripping him, her mouth twisting self-deprecatingly, "I would hate to be responsible for something awful happening to you. It might soil you on my little corner of America forever and that would be a shame."

That almost sounded like an invitation to return.

Klaus turns away, making his way to the settee. He didn't want her to catch a glimpse of the surely smug pleasure he wore as the certainty that it would be easy to convince Caroline to leave this place washed over him. He settles onto the cushions, helping himself to one of the bite sized morsels that have been prettily arranged for them. Caroline leans against her worktable table, once again at a loss for what to do with her hands. Klaus is just about to invite her to sit with him, mind turning over the best way to broach the reasons why he'd really come, when she speaks. "It occurred to me that I'm not entirely sure what your surname is, Niklaus. You always write it but your signature's more of a scribble."

That was by design. He'd been uncertain of just how connected Caroline was in the beginning and his caution had been prudent. Bill Forbes had the means to know about the original vampires and it was entirely possible he'd written of them for Caroline to find.

She'd just supplied him with the perfect opening.

Klaus watches her carefully. "It's Mikaelson." She nods in acceptance, repeating it under her breath. It's a common enough name so Klaus understands the lack of reaction. "And most people call me Klaus," he adds and _waits_. It only takes a few seconds for Caroline to make the necessary connections, her eyes going round and her body rigid. "Ah, so you _have _heard of me."

The noise she makes is strangled, her face paling. Klaus moves slowly, standing and holding up his hands in a gesture he hopes reads as non-threatening but he's really had little practice with such things. "I'm not here to hurt you, Caroline," he tells her softly. He hazards a step in her direction but she jerks violently, knocking into the table and causing the vials of the unknown substance to roll off the edge.

She hisses out a blistering curse that has Klaus blinking in surprise, dropping to her knees unthinkingly to clean up the mess. Her descent is so rapid that he doesn't manage to caution her. Her hand jerks away from the shattered glass immediately, a spot of blood visible, and she lets out a shaky laugh, "I am _such _an imbecile. I just said that this is _not _to be touched and what do I do? And least you'll probably kill me before I experience any pain." Caroline looks up at him, jaw set stubbornly and a faint sheen of tears that she refuses to let fall in her accusing blue eyes.

Klaus strides towards her and joins her on the floor. "I'm not going to kill you, sweetheart."

Not permanently at least. And not without her explicit permission.

Caroline scoffs, "I've read about you. You kill _everyone_."

"If that were true there were be no stories of me for you to have read," he points out reasonably. Caroline's lips purse in distaste but she hasn't attempted to move away and Klaus takes that as a promising sign. "Additionally my sireline is quite healthy and prodigious. I'd be happy to introduce you to any number of the vampires I've turned."

Those that were loyal, of course. Trustworthy and fit to make Caroline's acquaintance.

She's still bleeding, the metallic scent thick and mouth-watering. Caroline flinches when he takes her hand but Klaus is persistent, bringing her fingers to his mouth and wrapping his lips around the injured one. Her lips part when he sucks, stroking the pad of her finger with his tongue.

Two things hit him at once. The first is the exquisite taste of her blood. The sweetness of it has his fangs aching for more but he knows it's the wrong time. The second is that he _knows _what the powder is, has tasted it before.

Caroline's not going to be pleased when he explains. It's possible she'll be mollified when he gives her the specifics, lets her know that she doesn't _have_ to feel the pain her little friends must have before they'd discovered how to alleviate the unpleasant side effects. Not when Klaus is more than willing to offer his assistance.

He releases her finger, swallowing back a groan of disappointment at the loss. "What do you know of aphrodisiacs, love?"

Her nose wrinkles in confusion, "They're substances said to encourage arousal. Usually nonsense with zero basis in sound science."

Clever girl.

Klaus nods approvingly and hurries to elaborate knowing that the window of time she has to remain clear headed is limited, "Usually, yes. But, when magic is applied the usual rules are less hard and fast. The powder you've been dosed with _is _an aphrodisiac one far more intense than anything you've ever heard of."

"How do you know that?" she asks suspiciously.

"There are certain pockets of humanity that live symbiotically with vampires, some who crave our attention, enjoy the bites and the… sexual benefits our enhanced senses, strength and stamina allow. They're the powder's primary market. They think it makes them more appealing to us."

Caroline's breathing begins to quicken and Klaus can hear the faint uptick in her heart rate. She shifts restlessly and he'd bet if he glanced down her nipples would be stiff and visible behind the garment she wears. Her body is beginning to succumb, her need will soon override reason and there's still more she needs to know. He grasps her arms and shakes her gently. Caroline's eyes squeeze shut but there's no telltale haze when she opens them. He can see her thinking, looking for a solution.

Unfortunately, there's only one.

"Forgive me for my crassness, sweetheart, but are you _untouched_?"

Her color heightens dramatically but she nods, lips pressed in a tight line. Klaus wishes he had time to question her more gently. At least Caroline's a pragmatic sort, not prone to maidenly swooning. He dips his head until he can meet her eyes again, notes how they've darkened, "And there's no one you've explored with? No stable boy or chamber maid that visits your room under the cover of darkness? I can find them for you, love."

He'd hate doing it but he _would_. His plans for Caroline were more than momentary, a lover easily left behind once she was willing to reach out and take more for herself would not affect them in the slightest.

Her moan is equal parts arousal and humiliation. "No, I've never… There hasn't been… I'm incredibly focu…"

She flounders and Klaus presses forward ignoring the satisfaction racing through him. "Do you touch yourself? If I leave you here do you know how to make yourself come?"

Her tongue glides along her lower lip, leaving it shiny, and Klaus refuses to allow himself to look. He can smell her, the tantalizing scent of her growing need, knows her thighs must be slick with it. It's damnably tempting and were he a weaker individual she'd already be flat on her back with his mouth where she was dripping. "I…" she rasps out, slumping forward to press against him. "I can't think," she whispers, sounding awed and a touch scared.

Klaus hauls her back, "Answer me, Caroline," he demands.

"I do," she manages around a gasp. "Of course I do. With all the experiments I've done do you really think I'd be content to leave my own body a mystery?"

A valid point and Klaus hates it but his mind drifts to how much he'd enjoy letting her experiment with _his_ body, how her capable, ink stained hands would feel as she tested which grip he liked best around his cock. "Okay," he grits out. "I'm going to leave. I'll be right outside that door because you and I still have business to discuss and I doubt you'd like to be interrupted by one of your servants."

Caroline cringes, her nails digging into his shirt. "That would be _mortifying_. How long will it take?"

"By yourself? I'm not certain. The powder will usually run its course in two or three days with a partner."

Her reply is disbelieving. And shrill. "Two or three days?!"

He smooths a few wisps of hair off of her damp forehead, the only gesture of comfort he can offer, and doesn't examine why he feels the need to make it. Klaus stands and lifts Caroline to her feet and into his arms. She moans, guttural and wanting, burying her head in his shoulder, hands greedily tracing what she can reach of his form pressed against him as she is.

Klaus needs to leave. Immediately.

He deposits her on the settee, whisks the tray away. His final offer isn't as steady as he would like it to be. "I'll be _right_ outside that door. Call if you wish for any… assistance."

He's not entirely sure she understands what he'd meant. Perhaps it's better that way.

* * *

Caroline's barely aware of Niklaus, _Klaus_, leaving, the insistent throbbing between her legs all that she can focus on. She's never felt this on edge, like her skin could split right open at any moment if she didn't get her hands up her skirts and against her prickling flesh. Her breathing is ragged, fanning out over her parted lips and Caroline plants her heels in the settee's cushions, lifting her hips so she can yank up her dress, skimming her hands up her bare thighs. They part under her touch, one leg tumbling off the side as she squirms to find the best position, stroking over the sticky patch of hair that covers her pubic bone and then lower to where she's slick and hot. The tiny bump that she's learned to manipulate aches and Caroline sobs out a moan when she rubs around it her hips twitching up into the circles she's making. Her free hand palms her breast, tugging roughly at her still clothed nipple, and her muscles begin to tremble as she tenses while reaching for that delightful rush of sensation.

She's never climbed this fast before, usually spends long minutes teasing herself in her bed until she can find a peak. Her head thrashes against the fabric below her, hands moving faster and faster, high pitched whimpers spilling from her lips as she twists under her own fingers. When she goes over the edge it's shattering, her body arching up sharply and a short scream of relief ringing out as she shudders through waves of bliss.

She's typically relaxed once she's finished, stumbles out of bed to clean herself before collapsing back into it and drifting into a sound sleep.

Not today.

She feels… normal _just_ for a moment. A bolt of clarity rushes in and she realizes all that's happened, just who she'd been speaking to and what he's capable of. His offer flits through her mind just before new, demanding ripples of lust begin to course through her. She bites her lip to muffle her moan, frozen in the knowledge that Klaus can _hear _her.

Gracious she'd been _loud_.

Her body's pulses grow hotter, harder to ignore, and Caroline's fingers delve back into her folds, brushing over the source of the wetness before easing inside of her clenching body. She presses her palm down, grinding it against her sensitive flesh. Soon her thoughts are once again foggy, her only goal quieting her body's insistent needs.

Again. And again.

She quickly ceases to be aware of time passing, one climax rolling into another. She begins to ache in a less pleasant way, a soreness growing in her splayed thighs, her most sensitive parts feeling swollen and oversensitive. She begins to hiss occasionally in discomfort, tries to give herself a rest, a short recovery period, but her need for satiation is greater the previously thrilling yearning beginning to _burn_. Still, the small disagreeable twinges are distracting, leaving her muddled and _stuck_.

Finally she groans in frustration and heaves herself to her feet, planning on walking a bit, rationalizing that she has to try _something_. She immediately stumbles, the blood rushing to her head and her shaky legs conspiring against her. Caroline careens to the side, slamming into the settee and sending it scraping loudly against the floor. She pounds her fist against the softness of it in frustration as she lays half-sprawled on it, an angry noise gurgling out of her throat as she squeezes her thighs together helplessly and ruts against the cushion beneath her. She hears a soft knock, a tentative question, "Are you hurt, Caroline?"

Caroline groans and Klaus must interpret that as permission to enter. Footsteps approach her and he crouches. She cracks her eyes open and finds his face level with hers.

A monster should not be capable of looking at a woman like he's looking at her.

There's softness there, sympathy. A hint of something dangerous and intriguing barely leashed in the flash of red in his eyes. Caroline clears her throat but her voice still cracks, "This is _awful_. People truly do this for enjoyment?"

He smiles at her, runs a fingertip over her flushed cheek, "Is that so hard to believe, sweetheart? It sounded as if _you _were enjoying yourself." There's no censure in the statement, only a slight thickening of his accent that causes the words to come out roughly.

Caroline sighs, letting her head rest more heavily on the settee, "Sore now. I can't…"

"Let me help you, Caroline." His fingers trace the shell of her ear and Caroline's eyes want to drift closed at the delicate caress. "I can make you feel so good," he croons.

She forces her eyes back open, unwilling to allow herself to be swept away. "You lied to me," she accuses.

"I know."

"Are you sorry?"

He seems to take a moment to think about it, discards several answers before he speaks again. "I not, love. I rarely entertain regrets and lying to you allowed me to _know _you, did it not? I cannot regret that."

Caroline appreciates the honesty though she's torn about how the answer makes her feel. He _did_ know her. But did she know him?

The pain is worsening and she clenches her teeth together, attempts to breathe through it. A flicker of concern darkens Klaus' eyes but he remains still and watchful. "Why did you come here?" Caroline asks once she can open her mouth without crying out.

This time he doesn't hesitate. "I think you've got the makings of a magnificent vampire, sweetheart. Your intelligence and ambitions are too grand to be limited to such a short life. I aim to convince you of that."

She stiffens her shock momentarily driving away everything else. "I _can't_," she insists.

"Why not? You have no family, your childhood friends have all married, something you don't want, correct? You could see the entire world, Caroline. A dozen times over. Solve all the mysteries of the universe if you wanted to. You'd always be as lovely as you are now, you'd merely gain fangs and ferocity both of which would suit you nicely."

She blinks at him, thoughts a confused mess, unable to formulate a logical reply. Klaus shakes his head, smiles a little ruefully. "You don't have to decide _now_. It's far too much in your current state. Let's speak of something simpler. Can I touch you? Will you let me give you what you need?"

She swallows harshly, the sound echoing between them before she manages a tentative nod.

It's purely practical, she tells herself. She'd been failing on her own, sinking deeper into frustrated agony. It only made sense to try something different. Klaus' hands urge her to turn, firm and steady and supporting her when she falters, her body feeling heavy and uncoordinated. He tears her dress and Caroline can't bring herself to mind, knowing it was likely rumpled beyond repair. She knows she should feel self-conscious lying nude before his gaze and her hands twitch with the urge to cover herself but Klaus' gaze in hungry, almost reverent, tracking over every inch of her flushed form like he's trying to memorize it.

His hands glide up her legs, his rough palms an intriguing contrast to her smooth skin. She jerks when he traces her folds with his thumb and he glances up at her questioningly, "Sorry," she mumbles. It hadn't _actually_ hurt she'd just expected it to and had reacted accordingly.

He shushes her gently, "Don't ever be sorry, Caroline. I always want your reactions to be true." His touch remains delicate, feather light brushes along the seam of her that manage not to be too much. She closes her eyes, sinking into the feeling, and then suddenly it's… different. _Wetter_. Curious but not at all unpleasant.

She hears a hum, feels the vibration of it and her eyes fly open to meet Klaus'. She makes a shocked noise upon finding his mouth hovering between her thighs. She watches as his tongue peeks out and takes a soft taste of her flesh.

Heaven help her but she _likes _it.

He does it again, perhaps reading her mind, the brushes soft and exploratory and coaxing back those lovely feelings that she'd thought herself too sensitive for as they delve deeper. She whines when he pulls back and he smiles in delight, "Greedy," he murmurs approvingly. "Just as I'd assumed."

Caroline can't bring herself to be ashamed and she doesn't think Klaus means her to be, not with such wicked satisfaction clear in his features. "Sit up a bit," he instructs, "Cup your breasts and show me how you like to be touched."

She does as she's asked, tentatively passing her hands over her nipples under his approving gaze. "Just like that," he encourages, slipping his shoulder under her thigh. "You're going to come on my tongue, Caroline. I'll take slow and languid little tastes until you forget that you're sore. Then you'll be ready for more, I think. I'll go faster, use my fingers too until you're writhing and wild. Do you think you'll be ready for my cock then? It won't hurt a bit if I push into you when you're falling apart."

Funny, Caroline had never heard that. Only horror stories about pain and blood and gritting her teeth and baring it gracefully so as not to mar her husband's experience.

He continues, tone knowing, "You like the feel of _your_ fingers buried inside your tight little sheath, don't you? I heard you, you know. _Imagined _you. You sighed when you started with one, your breath hitched at the stretch when you eased in another. I promise it can be _better_."

It's not in her nature to just accept things. "Better how?" she questions, her curiosity getting the best of her.

A low laugh rumbles from Klaus, "Humans have been fucking since the dawn of time, love. There are limitless ways to do it. Positions, situations, accessories. Everyone has preferences and I'm certain that helping you to discover yours would be endlessly fascinating."

Caroline believes him, has no choice not to when just his words are inspiring her body to react, arousal pooling at her entrance. The idea of endless possibilities is intriguing and she makes a note to press Klaus for specifics later, perhaps get him to help her start a list.

She was a scientist. Used to attacking puzzles and he'd just teased her with a large one.

She licks her lips and meets his eyes, pinches and rolls her nipple just to see if she can affect him too. His eyes flare, dropping to her breasts, "Do that again," he tells her, voice deep and commanding. Caroline shivers and does so, moaning at the tug of desire it shoots low in her belly.

She digs her heel into his back and his hands dig into her thighs. He's watching her like he's waiting for something. She inhales shakily, "I want you to show me. _All_ of it."

Klaus shakes his head, his generous mouth curving in gleeful anticipation, "Oh, Caroline, don't you worry. It will be by greatest pleasure to show you all the things I've spoken of. And _more_."

How Caroline wonders, for the brief moment she's capable of it, could there _possibly_ be more?


	74. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 9

**Notes: **Another sequel! Day 9 of 25daysofKlaroline was Klaroline + Any Time Period and I had a request for this one. It's a follow up to the drabble in Chapter 58.

**Bloody Thump (Part Two)**

Caroline needs a little distance.

Her heart continues thrumming erratically as she watches Klaus feed, she's digging her nails into her palms until it hurts, mentally screaming at herself to _look away_.

It was so, so wrong to find this hot.

Admonishing herself is useless. She _can't_ stop watching.

She's not sure how much time passes until Klaus seems and a soft noise of satiation drifts from him, loud in the stillness of the clearing. It does _nothing_ to loosen the knot of arousal sitting low in her belly, pushes her traitorous brain into imagining what the sound would feel like if he muffled it in her skin.

She's not picky. The soft plane of her inner thigh, the curve of her breast, the crook of her shoulder.

Fuck.

If she's going to manage not to shove _him_ against another tree she needs to leave. Now.

Caroline mumbles something about washing up and whirls, walking blindly into the woods.

There had to be a stream or something somewhere, right?

Hopefully it was really freaking cold.

* * *

When she returns, mouth clean and rinsed until she no longer tasted blood, heartbeat finally settled, it's to find that Klaus had sent the travelers on their way, their footsteps fading in the distance. She's wary, half expecting him to needle her about her reaction to drinking that man's blood and undo all the effort she'd put into calming down.

She had resolved to be cordial, recognizing that Klaus was on her team at the moment and that tabling the things she'd been pissed about when they'd been sent here was the smartest thing to do. If he pushes her, however, Caroline's not certain she can be sensible and mature.

Thankfully he makes no mention of it though Caroline highly doubts it won't come up again unless they manage to find a _very_ quick solution to their current problem. As she approaches he's strictly business, eyes scanning her over, lingering on her wrist. She flexes it pointedly, and he nods in approval.

Klaus informs her that he'd interrogated the travelers more thoroughly before releasing them. That he's gotten additional info both about their location and the nearest pockets of civilization. That he'd ransacked their belongings but hadn't taken anything, having found nothing of value other than a flask that contained a variety of liquor that Klaus thought might be liable to cause blindness.

"Too good for moonshine?" she asks. Surely he'd had worse? Damon would drink rubbing alcohol in a pinch and Klaus seemed equally fond of his libations. She's kind of come to assume it's a given for vampires. "It's probably not smart but I could go for some serious booze right about now."

Klaus shakes his head and promises that he'll find her something more palatable soon. Caroline's totally planning on holding him to that.

He sums up his findings for her, informing Caroline that they were still in Virginia. Bemoans the fact that the pair of travelers they'd stumbled across was entirely human, not a single connection to any of the vampires or witches of the time that Klaus could name. His shoulders are tense with frustration when he's finished. "The internet really does make things so much easier," he grumbles and Caroline actually cracks a smile.

"Is there an order an evil minion service I should know about?" she teases, glad that there's _something_ to laugh at. "Www dot witchy solutions dot com, maybe?"

Klaus relaxes slightly, a small smile flitting over his lips. "No. Or not _yet_, at least. But I've high hopes for the future. Progress _is_ always happening and some witches are remarkably fond of money."

Caroline snorts incredulously, "Who isn't?"

He inclines his head, conceding the point, before gesturing to the east. "Time to start walking, love. Our travelling friends mentioned a small village that we should be able to get to in under a half hour. There's an inn. I thought we'd spend the night, firm up our plans."

Well, it's not like Caroline has a better option.

She turns in the direction he'd indicated squinting until she can see faint imprints in the dirt. The path isn't particularly worn down but it _is_ there and she sighs as she begins to walk. If she'd been human she'd be paying for all this hiking tomorrow with misery and aching thighs.

It's a small comfort.

They lapse into silence once more, one far easier to deal with than the seething awkwardness they'd shared just hours ago, back in the 21st century.

Caroline supposes that truces had been made under _far_ less extreme circumstances.

She eyes her surroundings with interest, once again struck by the weirdness of the situation. She recognizes nothing but the forest _feels_ familiar even if the unnatural stillness, how _quiet_ it is, gives her a tiny hint of the creeps.

She never thought she'd miss annoying plane sounds overhead or stumbling over broken beer bottles.

Klaus is at her back once more and she has to admit his presence is almost… comforting. Not something she'd ever thought she'd feel. But, she rationalizes, it _is_ still the full moon. It's entirely possible, given the history of the area, that there's a werewolf or two tearing through the trees somewhere nearby. Caroline has no interest in a bite _or_ a fight with an aggressive ball of fur but at least she had backup and a handy cure at her disposal should she be _that_ unlucky. Had she been alone, or even with Stefan, she'd have been screwed in such a scenario. Tracking down 17th century Klaus in the hopes that he could still cure her pre-hybridness would have been close to impossible. Plus, _that_ Klaus might have even killed them since, if Caroline wasn't mistaken, he was in the thick of a hyper paranoid running from psycho dad stage of existence.

She whirls to face him, her curiosity getting the best of her, slowing to walk backward on the path, "Hey, where are you right now? Not you _you_ obviously but the _you_ who belongs here. I'm pretty sure time travel rules frown upon you two having any kind of face to face meet up. One of you might explode or something."

The faint sigh Klaus emits suggests that he's still not totally onboard with following the rules she thinks they should. Caroline raises her brows pointedly, silently pushing for an answer. "Europe," he tells her. "We spent the bulk of the 17th century flitting between cities. The population's took a bit of a hit because of the periodic outbreaks of illness but it's still easier to hide in a mass of people than in the countryside."

Caroline could admit that made sense though she knew there was more to it. "And they could be a handy pile of cannon fodder if you needed to make a getaway, huh?"

"So strategic," Klaus muses, a hint of admiration warming his eyes.

Caroline rolls her eyes and ignores the compliment even though it's a _tiny_ bit nice that Klaus likes her brain. "It's an easy assumption. You wouldn't care about humans dying if it meant that you lived."

"Does that bother you?" Klaus asks, eyes narrowing, tone hardening slightly.

"Um, duh," Caroline drawls. "I'm never going to be pro mass murder for my own gain."

This time his laugh is cold and he takes a larger step, eyes boring into her as he eases into her space. "Interesting. _Unlike_ me, I suppose?"

Caroline swallows hard but nods, her nerves beginning to twitch with the knowledge that she'd hit one of Klaus' and that she needs to tread carefully. She'd believed Klaus all those weeks ago, thought he'd meant it when he'd said he'd never hurt her again. But she wasn't stupid enough to assume he'd never changed his mind after making a promise.

He could get back home just as easily if she wasn't tagging along.

The noise he makes is contemplative, a touch mocking, and she can't look away from the anger kindling in his expression, "What about your dear friend Elena and her faithful servants, the Salvatores? After all, _my_ brother and the thousands of vampires in his line were, to them, a fair sacrifice for the mere _possibility_ that her humanity could be returned, were they not? All because she's _weak_," he spits, venomous and derisive.

She'd been right. She'd poked a hell of a nerve.

It's second nature to defend her friends but Caroline can't force the words out around the lump in her throat. She's willfully decided _not_ to think about what Elena and Jeremy had done, what it _meant_. To consider the thousands of vampires who might have been just like her - turned against their will and just trying to make the most of it – was pointless, she told herself. It was done and it's not like she'd been responsible.

Secretly she's glad she hadn't been included in that particular plot. Would she have gone along with it, told herself that he loyalty to the people she'd grown up with was more important than strangers with possibly dubious feeding habits? Could she have _lived_ with that?

"She's not weak," Caroline manages, lifting her chin stubbornly. "She's just having a hard time adjusting. She never wanted to be a vampire. If Rebekah hadn't killed her…"

Klaus cuts her off with a harsh noise, "Elena _chose_ to become a vampire. She should have been prepared to deal with the consequences. She had a better idea than most."

"Still," Caroline says, groping for an argument.

Klaus is _not_ having it. "Did you _want_ to be a vampire? Did your friends bend over backwards to help you, literally opening their veins for your convenient feeding? The Donovan boy was your boyfriend once upon a time, was he not? Did he let you bite him?"

As much as Caroline tells herself she's not bitter about how her friends, her _mother_, had reacted to her turning sometimes it hits her, a wave of resentment and anger that she's never really been able to properly vent. She grits her teeth together to beat it back, "We're not talking about _me_."

"Perhaps we should, sweetheart." His lips twist sardonically as he continues, condescension dripping from every vowel and consonant, purposefully poisonous. "I highly doubt you often get the opportunity considering dear _Elena's_ circumstances are ever so much more dire and tragic."

"That offer is significantly less charming this time around," Caroline mutters, hoping he'll just _drop_ it.

"Ah, _we're_ a bit more honest now, aren't we? You're not attempting to monopolize my attention at Damon's bidding. You offered me all sorts of charming smiles and pretty words that night, Caroline. But I've often wondered how many were true. Give me something real now. Have you ever fed from a human before? Did you lose control? Is that why it scares you?"

Another thing she doesn't allow herself to dwell on. "I didn't know what was happening to me."

Klaus softens, if only infinitesimally. "Nor did I. Only that it _hurt_ and that I needed something I could not name. I killed. Did you?"

"Not at first. There was a blood bag. Then a nurse. I managed to stop but later…" she glances away, taking a shaky breath. "His name was Carter. He worked at my school. His family reported him missing and I had to act concerned and horrified when my mom talked about it over dinner. I've never been brave enough to ask what happened to his body."

When she chances a glance at Klaus she finds him watching her steadily. She searches his features, knowing she'll find no judgement. Maybe that's why she'd told him.

"Anyway," Caroline says, attempting to sound upbeat, "Since then it's pretty much just been bunnies and blood bags. I think of it like a diet and count my blessings that I can stuff myself with fatty foods to my heart's content these days without having to worry about splitting the seams of my cheer uniform."

He lets her shift the subject, "A common sublimation tactic for young vampires."

"What, you never tried it? Oh, wait, I bet food was kinda gross 1000 years ago. Binging would have been less fun."

A hint of amusement smooths the anger in Klaus' face, "It was certainly different. I had few complaints at the time though I imagine _you_ might have thought it 'gross'."

Caroline shrugs, turning back around. "I'm a 21st century girl. I need chocolate and Doritos to keep from eating my annoying classmates, sue me."

Klaus hums, "Well, if necessary we can find you chocolate, love. Though I'm afraid you're out of luck for the other. That vile fake cheese dust won't be invented for quite a while. It's too bad I've no idea who's responsible for it. I'd not mind wiping _his_ line out and preventing it's conception."

Caroline gasps, glancing back over her shoulder, "It's not _vile_."

Klaus looks distinctly unimpressed, "It gets _everywhere_. I had to burn a chair I've had for two hundred years because it was covered in orange fingerprints. And the smell," his face takes on a look of revulsion and Caroline is certain that he _actually_ shudders.

So dramatic.

She finds herself giggling quietly anyway but the sound cuts off quickly when Klaus sets a hand on her hip, stilling her forward momentum. Caroline freezes, instantly on alert, kicking herself forgetting that they were currently in the midst of a Code Red on steroids kind of situation. "What is it?" she breathes, trying to focus her senses.

Klaus hand tightens for a moment before dropping, "It's nothing to be alarmed about, sweetheart. We're just nearing out destination and we can't walk into the inn we're going to stay at dressed like this if we wish to remain inconspicuous."

Caroline glances down, "Oh. I guess ladies wearing pants was kind of frowned upon, huh? A burn at the stake kind of offense?"

"Precisely. Additionally the fabrics will be unfamiliar, the seams are too clean to have been done by hand, and zippers have yet to be invented. We'll stick out and we can' have that."

"Yikes," Caroline says, for lack of a better way to sum up her feelings as understanding dawns. The reality was sinking in, the vast list of things she didn't _know_ beginning to seriously freak her out.

Who knew Klaus could be the one doing the distracting?

"I should have taken some things from those men but I thought you'd dislike sending them out into the elements weakened by blood loss and without proper attire."

Caroline casts a disbelieving glance at him, "Wait, what? It's not even cold."

Klaus grins, "And _perhaps_ I did not wish to wear something quite so… soiled."

She rolls her eyes but feels a bit of her looming panic recede in the face of Klaus' calmness, "Someone's become a bit of a princess in their old age, hmm? Used to his abundance of fancy modern henleys and jeans?"

"Do you like them?" he asks innocently. "I'll confess that as far as comfortable clothing goes the current era is probably my favorite. So far, at least."

Caroline scoffs, completely unwilling to admit that yeah, she kinda does. Klaus did not need the compliment _or_ the encouragement. "Quit trying to get me to tell you you're pretty. You must have stopped me because you have a plan, right? Spit it out."

Klaus sighs like he's put out but sobers quickly. "Nothing dramatic, love. We just need to find a straggler and perform a petty thievery."

"AKA force some poor soul to enact one of those awful 'wake up naked' dreams?"

Klaus seems unconcerned with a 17th century random's mental health and Caroline isn't really either. She's just unable to help falling into a snarky rhythm when Klaus is so good at tossing barbs right back.

What? Witty company was hard to find in high school.

"And then one of us will slip in and procure us a room with a little compulsion," Klaus continues. "Once situated they'll open the window and whoever's left behind will flash over and jump without being seen. Sound feasible?"

Caroline nods. She kind of likes that he's not assuming he'll be doing all the dirty work that he's pragmatic enough to realize that it's entirely possible they'll happen across a woman and that he's got enough confidence in her abilities to have zero qualms about sending her to actually _do_ something.

It's stupid, and kind of depressing, but Caroline's just so used to Damon shooting down her every thought like she's a completely incompetent moron.

Ugh, if only she could get away with punching him again without having to deal with the bitchfit pout fest Elena would inevitably throw to protest the affront to Damon's honor or whatever.

Klaus doesn't seem to have noticed her drifting thoughts, "Good. I can just hear voices so the treeline should break in another few dozen paces. Get low when the foliage begins to thin out and we'll wait for an opportunity."

He waits for her to begin moving again and Caroline makes an effort to keep her steps quiet. She can't hear anything yet but she knows Klaus' senses are better than hers so she trusts his estimate.

It's a new feeling, trusting Klaus. Caroline knows she's going to have to get used to it if they're going to manage to get home.

* * *

They hadn't had to wait long. It had been a woman to appear, shorter and fuller than Caroline was, carrying two empty buckets. She'd acted without thinking, covering the woman's mouth and compelling her not to scream. Klaus had hung back and once again Caroline had been bizarrely warmed by the fact that he wasn't forcing her to play a supporting role.

She'd only taken the outer dress, leaving the woman in a slip type thing. She'd told the woman to hurry home, immediately get into bed and to make sure she wasn't seen. Caroline then compelled her to forget the whole thing.

Klaus had been silent, had murmured praise for a job well done when the woman had left them. She'd thanked him, because it was only _polite_, before darting away to find a tree to change behind.

She'd been really unimpressed with just how itchy the fabric of the stolen dress was, tugged at it, pulling it away from her skin with a frown etched on her face when she'd rejoined Klaus. "I feel like I have bed bugs," she'd complained.

"Now you know what I meant about comfort," he'd shot back. "Is it my turn to call you princess?"

She'd shoved him, more playfully than not, and tossed him her discarded clothes before she'd stalked away. The rest of their plan had gone off with nary a hitch, Caroline had procured them a room and hadn't even felt bad because the innkeeper guy hadn't even attempted to hide the fact that he was leering at her boobs.

_Why_ Caroline didn't know because she did not fill out the ill-fitting bodice _at all_.

There's only one bed but Caroline doesn't have the energy to be upset about it. They had _way_ bigger issues so their truce would just have to allow for some uncomfortably awkward proximity. She flops onto it face first, wincing when she discovers it's filled with poky things. She pushes herself up on to her elbows blowing her hair out of her face, "Do I even _want_ to know what this is made of?"

"Feathers and straw," Klaus supplies. "More straw than feathers at this type of establishment, I'd wager. And about those bedbugs…"

She lets out a squeak of alarm, flinging herself off the bed and landing on a heap on the floor. She doesn't even care that it hurt, "Oh my god, _please_ tell me you're joking."

"I'm joking," he parrots, looking down at her, his face too blank to be believed.

Caroline scrubs her hands over her face. "This is hell," she moans. "Hell is real and it's filled with icky scratchy things and weird smells and probably awful food and filthy people who taste delicious. There's nothing fun and happiness hasn't been invented yet."

Klaus is still staring at her, a brow lifted in shock. Caroline glares as she sees his lips twitch in what is _definitely_ amusement at her expense. "Don't laugh at me," she orders. "You already lived through this. I'm allowed a little bit of a freak out before I adjust and regroup and make the 17th century my bitch, okay?"

He backs away, hands held out placatingly, maintaining his silence. Caroline hears him settle on to the bed. Klaus clears his throat, "It's really not as bad as all that. I seem to recall that a fair number of happy people and fun things have always existed."

"Like what?" Caroline asks morosely.

"_I've_ always liked painting. You enjoy dancing, do you not? That's a pastime far older than you, love. Sports. Sex. Games, parties, theater. Do you want me to go on?"

She sits up, eyes him skeptically, "Are you seriously giving me a pep talk right now?"

He folds his hands under his head, shifting like it's possible to get comfortable in such a god awful bed, "It appears so. How am I doing?"

"Okay," Caroline admits grudgingly, heaving herself to her feet. "I wouldn't look into life coaching as a side gig or anything but I am convinced that I'm _maybe_ not actually in hell. Thanks for trying."

Klaus accepts her gratitude, smiling up at her before tipping his head to the side, "I set your things on the washstand and I promise to keep my eyes closed while you change."

Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies him closely. Klaus doesn't so much as fidget under her scrutiny and Caroline finally breaks the eye contact and goes to retrieve her jeans. She'll be super uncomfortable but the alternative – sleeping in a possibly infested bed, with _Klaus_, while not fully clothed – is completely out of the question.

Wait, had he really listed _sex_ in his little recital of fun past times?

She glances back at him, finds his eyes dutifully closed. "So you're telling me people routinely had sex in freaking straw mattresses? Ugh, there are areas where I _do not_ want to be poked."

She half expects him to crack an eye open and peek over at her. He has to be able to hear that she hasn't started to change yet. But, surprisingly, his eyes remain closed even as he laughs softly. "It's not possible you're surprised by that, Caroline. The fact that people are less than discerning about something so minor as _location_ when it comes to satisfying their sexual needs should be exceedingly obvious to anyone who's spent significant time with what passes for a teenage boy in our present time."

Maybe he's got a point. She begins unbuttoning her dress, watching Klaus carefully. There's a slight clench to his jaw but no reaction otherwise and Caroline hurriedly strips and redresses. She tugs her hair out of her collar, "There, I'm decent. Now move over and stop hogging the bed. I call at _least_ half."

He shifts over without complaint but the bed's not that big and Caroline has to hug the edge to avoid touching him. They hadn't bothered lighting any of the candles in the room, both more than able to see from the light of the moon spilling into the open window.

She'd just beginning to drift, able to forget where she is and welcome a stretch of unconsciousness because it's been a long freaking day when Klaus speaks, carefully neutral, "You'll have to feed again."

Caroline's been trying not to think about it. She makes a noise, acknowledging that she's heard him but otherwise stays quiet.

"If," Klaus begins, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, "you'd like to feed on animals for… however long we're here, I won't attempt to stop you. I'll even try not to comment overmuch."

"There sounds like there's a but in there," Caroline says, bracing herself. Last time Klaus had been all soft and kindly she'd been smacked in the face with the revelation that they'd poofed three hundred plus years into the past. She comforts herself with the fact that whatever he's getting at now can't possibly be _that_ bad.

He makes his point without any more hedging, "It's possible we'll have to travel. The trains and boats available to us aren't nearly so swift as the ones you're accustomed to."

She really hadn't thought that far ahead but she can see the issue clearly. It was doubtful she'd find animals that would sustain her if they were cooped up for a long voyage. She drew the line at eating rats or other possibly plague filled vermin. "So basically my only option might sometimes be people or dessication," Caroline sums up, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to let her anxiousness at the news show. "Or, you know, _you_."

"Which you seemed rather reluctant to consider before. I could teach you. If you wanted."

"I'll think about it," Caroline says, her brain already beginning to turn over the offer. Would there be a catch? Would he want something in return? She'd have to get more details before she accepted or declined.

"We can talk about it in the morning," Klaus agrees. "We've plenty of time. And a witch to track down."

He's right, there's was no real rush, Caroline knew. She'd be good until at least the day after tomorrow with how much blood she'd had earlier. She'd have to weigh the pros and con carefully but she found she wasn't completely against the idea.

Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be the worst thing. If she knew she could do it, became accustomed to the taste of fresh blood, then it wouldn't be so tempting, would it? She wouldn't have to fear losing control and draining someone dry. It's something she'd considered from time to time, a big believer in the theory that practice made perfect. But asking Stefan to face his vast issues with drinking from humans seemed mean and asking Damon was out of the question. If Klaus didn't pile on the strings this could be a good opportunity.

She didn't want to kill anyone so she'd never experimented on her own. Klaus was strong enough to stop her, she knew that, had _seen_ it just hours ago.

She turns onto her side, curling her arm under her head. "Night, Klaus," she murmurs, letting her eyes flutter shut.

"Goodnight, Caroline."

She listens to his breathing, deep and even and steady and allows herself to relax, knowing that whatever else she'll have to deal with in the coming days at least she's safe right now.

Was Klaus a bad guy? Sure. Right now that didn't matter. Caroline would take the tiny piece of comfort available to her and tell the nagging little voice that insisted she should feel guilty to shove it.

She'd do what she had to do fix this. Then she'd deal with the consequences.


	75. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 11

**Notes: **For the Klaroline + Smut theme day of 25daysofklaroline. Klaus' final project is based on Emma Hack's Wallpaper People series. Art NSFW is you decide to Google!

**Paint Me A Picture**

**(Prompt: 67 &amp; 27\. klaus has to paint a detailed mural on a nude model from head to toe. caroline is his nude model. after he finishes painting her, caroline has to pose for an exhibition in a gallery. SMUT.)**

Klaus is running late and cursing himself for it. It was not the impression he'd wanted to make.

He'd been sequestered in his tiny bit of assigned studio space all morning agonizing over the first piece of what would eventually become his final project. Print making was _not_ his forte but his final set of work was required to be multidisciplinary and the idea he'd settled on demanded it. The process was just turning out to be _frustrating, _often leaving him on the verge of a headache, and he'd lost track of time.

He _should_ have set an alarm.

In his defense he was _very_ new to his teacher's assistant post and the professor he'd been hired to assist was of the scatter brained and eccentric variety. She'd handed him a list of names and times (scribbled on a paper stained with coffee and something that looked suspiciously like the filling of a jelly donut) yesterday during their second meeting, told him to pick six of them for her figure drawing class. Her only instruction was that little variety was necessary and to watch out for people 'attempting to get their rocks off in her classroom.'

She'd then wandered into her office, shut the door, and blasted some sort of instrumental psychedelic folk music that Klaus had needed to make a quick escape from in order to avoid gouging out his eardrums.

He'd been left to puzzle out the context of her instruction though it hadn't been _that_ hard. He'd taken Professor LaRue's class in his first year, remembers with some shame the initial awkwardness he'd felt at watching an attractive woman, slightly older but no more than thirty, drop her robe and recline on an armchair in the middle of the room. He'd clenched his teeth together to avoid making any of the awkward titters that were heard throughout the room, ducked his head to avoid the professor's unimpressed gaze as she'd sought out the laughers and those who'd begun to whisper excitedly.

Her voice had rung out, just after the loud click of a stopwatch, cool and mocking, "You have ten minutes and your work _will_ be graded."

Klaus remembers getting over feeling odd about the model's nudity _very_ quickly. His pencil had flown over the page, trying to churn out something not completely horrid during each of the ten minute intervals, eyes snapping to the center of the room with each new pose, his thoughts turning decidedly clinical as he considered shading and form.

He'd been exhausted by the end of the hour, his shirt damp and sticking to him as he'd rolled up and labeled his sketches. It was by design, he'd later realized, a way to nip any immaturity in the bud and force them to focus on the task.

Professor LaRue had looked grimly satisfied at the tired line of students shuffling out of the room. The next drawing session had lacked the same initial flurry of tension and it was far less high pressure. That model had only done two poses and they'd been told to focus on drawing a smaller section of the body, to really make a study of the relation of muscle and bone.

By the end of the semester it hadn't been odd at all, each new model presenting an interesting challenge requiring him consider the human body differently and see its function as well as its form.

And now it was his duty to pick the people who would hopefully do the same for a group of forty or so introductory students.

Except he was _late_ and not nearly as prepared as he would have liked to have been.

He dodges people on his way up the stairs, grits his teeth to avoid pointing out that _up_ one side and _down_ the other was the logical way to navigate a crowded staircase and that not loitering in the middle was only _polite_. Klaus is out of breathe by the time he turns the corner into the quiet hallway of the art building where Professor LaRue's office and Klaus' adjoining space (barely more than a closet, really) was located.

It's deserted save for a blonde sitting on the floor, long legs stretched out across the threadbare carpet and engrossed in a thick text.

Ah, she must be his first appointment. If only he could recall her name.

Klaus clears his throat as he approaches and she glances up, folding down the corner of her page, "Are you Klaus?" she asks. "Professor LaRue's T.A.?"

"I am. Sorry I'm late."

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, "Only five minutes so I'm not _that_ pissed. I just hope you're better than the guy I had to deal with last year. He changed my slots constantly and I have a life, you know? This is basically an easy way for me to knock off work study hours but I don't like my schedule being messed with."

Klaus blinks down at her as he processes the flood of information, having a hard time focusing on it because he finds he quite likes the way her face shifts, the obvious play of emotion over her lovely features. She lifts a brow as his silence drags on and Klaus realizes that he has a job to do and considering the mix of pigments he'd need to use to capture her skin tone, the fading remnants of a tan and the spray of freckles across the nose, is not currently it. He shakes himself and offers her his hand. She takes it and lets him pull her to her feet, tucking her book under her arm and bending to retrieve her back pack.

He attempts to get back on track, "You've done this before, then?"

"Yup! Last year. For Josephine's classes and Professor Q's."

"Josephine?" Klaus asks, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He doesn't think he's ever heard anyone refer to her that way. She wasn't exactly _warm_.

"She likes to take the models out for drinks at the end of each semester. Let me tell you that's a lady who likes her gin. I can't hold mine half as well. Life goals, I guess."

Klaus smiles, opening the door and gesturing for her to go in, "I can see that, actually."

The girl's evidently quick witted, her reply snappy, "Me being a sloppy drunk? Or Professor LaRue drinking me under the table?"

"I'm sure you'd be delightful but I'd meant the latter."

She tips her head to the side and studies him, white teeth nibbling on her glossy lower lip as she considers, "You're definitely more charming than the last guy, I'll give you that."

This is not how he'd anticipated this meeting going but Klaus can't say he's at all upset about it. He pulls out the spare chair and circles his small desk and sits, "Thank you, sweetheart. You'll find I'm quite decisive too so I doubt the scheduling will trouble you. Barring, of course, some sort of emergency."

"I won't hold you personally responsible for the flakiness of others, don't worry. I've observed you artist types enough to know it comes with the territory."

Klaus knows he should probably be offended but, knowing some of his peers, he has to admit that she has a point. He glances down at his desk, pulls the piece of paper with the scant meeting info he'd been given towards him in what he hopes is a discrete manner.

Caroline. Her name is Caroline.

"Can I assume that you are not an 'artist type?'"

She snorts, hefts her book up so he can read 'Organic Chemistry' emblazoned across the front. "Nope, not at all. Though I might be being a teeny bit harsh. My roomie is a music student and he's mostly normal. Lurking around the art buildings I've just come across some real weirdos. There was a guy early on who asked me to donate certain bodily fluids that he was planning on mixing with paint for what he claimed was a series of works meant to illuminate the intersection of sex and art. I was dubious and declined."

Klaus is fairly certain he knows just who she'd talking about, remembers watching the installation of the pieces with some distaste last year. Not everyone was as discerning as Caroline seemed to be, he supposed and the pieces had been lurid and oddly pigmented.

"I'm surprised you didn't run away screaming," Klaus says.

"I'm pretty tough," she jokes. "My mom's a sheriff so I am well stocked on pepper spray and self defense moves. Plus, like I said, easy way to scratch off some work study time. I can pretty much take a mental vacation, just stand around and do some quality planning."

"And you had no trouble with the physical demands? Holding the poses and such?"

Again she shakes her head, "Nope, not at all. Dance led to cheerleading and now I do yoga. I kind of hate it but it's supposed to be relaxing so I keep trying."

His lips twitch in amusement, "Forgive me but if you have to _try_ to relax you might be doing it wrong."

Her eyes narrow but her pout is playful, "Really into yoga, are you?"

"Never tried it. I don't think I'm meant to bend that way."

The curl of her lips is a bit naughty if Klaus isn't mistaken. She runs her eyes over him speculatively, "Too bad. _Bending_ had its perks."

"Perhaps you'll show me some time," Klaus shoots back, returning her once over with an appreciative one of his own. She really was a pretty thing, and he suspected his hands would itch for a pencil during the sessions she was the focal point of, that the urge to capture her curves and angles on canvas would be insistent.

That he'd put great, explicitly detailed, thought into doing it with his hands and mouth afterwards, once he was alone and locked in his private flat.

Her smile widens, turning more mischievous than sensual, "Well, since it seems like I got the job I'm sure you'll see _just_ fine in class."

"And if I asked for a more… _personal_ demonstration?" Klaus asks, curious and attempting to hide a spark of hopefulness.

Caroline stands, hefting her bag over her shoulder, a look on her face that Klaus can only describe as challenging, "We'll see. But you'll never know until you ask, will you?"

She stands and whirls before he can say anything, blonde curls flying about her shoulders. She sets her hand on the doorknob and turns to look at him, "Last year there was a group meeting for the models where we went over what's needed, who's gonna do which class, all that boring stuff. Send me a text when you set it up, okay? Maybe you and I can get a drink after? Just so I can decide how _personal_ I want to get."

Klaus grins and nods, feeling far more pleased with the progression of his day, "I can do that."

He'll also do his level best to convince her that she wants to get _very_ personal, wonders if they happen to have any mutual acquaintances so he can do a little digging into her likes and dislikes. It's a small school, surely there's _some_ overlap? If nothing else he can attempt to get Professor LaRue on one of her excessively dreamy days, see if he can subtly poke and glean anything. And if neither strategy proves fruitful he'll just have to rely on charm. Luckily she seems to think he has it.

Caroline wiggles her fingers in a gesture of farewell, slipping out the door and closing it softly behind her. Klaus opens the drawer, digs for a fresh pad of paper and writes Caroline's name and contact details on it.

Solely in the name of organization and efficiency, of course.

* * *

"Hey," Caroline says, slipping into the opposite side of the booth from Klaus the Hot T.A. "Sorry that took me forever. Shaking off that guy who seemed to think everyone needed to know how much he can lift took longer than anticipated. He was so not susceptible to my scathing witticisms."

Klaus takes a sip of his drink while she shrugs out of her denim jacket, "His loss, love. _I_ find your witticisms delightful."

She shoots him a look of mock exasperation (because she hadn't been kidding about finding him charming) but his eyes are too busy taking in the skin she's revealed to return _or_ register it.

There's a reason she'd kept the jacket on for the duration of the meeting they'd just left. She'd wanted the wow factor that came with revealing this dress for his eyes only.

She'd liked the look of Klaus right from the beginning, his hair mussed and a general harried air clinging to him. He'd recovered quickly, had turned butter smooth and amusing as soon as he'd pulled her to her feet. She'd assumed that he wasn't the type to lose control easily – something she could definitely relate to – and that pushing him to lose it could be _very_ fun.

He'd seemed to return her admiration, all lingering eyes and obvious flirtation. Caroline had decided to roll with it, see where it took her. She hadn't been in the market for a boyfriend when she'd woken up that day but finding someone she clicked with wouldn't be the _worst_ thing. Even if it was just physical and temporary she was a big fan of sex as an easy form of stress relief during finals time. If the charge she'd thought buzzed between them turned out to be a fluke, or his personality was _awful_, that would be fine too. She was graduating in less than nine months so she had relatively minimal time where she'd have to make an effort to avoid him on the off chance that taking a risk blew up in her face.

The situation, in Caroline's opinion, was full of nothing but upsides. Klaus' crisp accent, dimples and the interesting callouses on his hands certainly sweetened the deal.

She waits for him to meet her eyes again, relishes the brief flash of embarrassment that crosses his face when her realizes how super unsubtly he'd been checking her out. She makes a circular gesture in front of her chest, smirking when his eyes remain stubbornly fixed on her face, "This is just a preview. You'll get a good look at the girls soon enough, right?"

He surprises her, answering her joke with sincerity, "You're an exceptionally beautiful woman, Caroline. I don't need to see you naked to know that."

Caroline feels herself _actually_ blushing. It's been a criminally long time since she's received a compliment that didn't contain some variation of 'hot.' Klaus saves her from replying, tipping his head in the direction of the bar, "Can I get you a drink?"

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles at him, "Just a coke. I have an early lab tomorrow and I'm still trying to suss out my lab partner's strengths. Can't be fuzzy, you know?"

He inclines his head, doesn't attempt to push her into something alcoholic like a lot of not so nice guys she's come across might have. Klaus climbs to his feet, "Did you eat dinner? The food here is surprisingly excellent."

Caroline's well aware. Her apartment is around the corner and she and Bonnie routinely make late night dessert runs during get-togethers. "I did. But if you wanted to split some chocolate cream pie I wouldn't object."

Klaus lets her eat most of the pie when he returns with it, only dipping his fork in once or twice. Caroline takes it as a sign that her instincts about him were spot on.

* * *

Caroline's first modelling session falls in the third week of the class and Klaus has to admit he's got some nerves brewing. She's set to arrive any minute and he's supposed to be going over what's required of her more in depth when she does. He's done it for the previous two models and had no issues.

Caroline's different.

They've seen each other a few times a week since they'd first become acquainted, have gotten coffee or lunch as their schedules allowed and shared tables at the library on nights they were both buried in coursework. He'd even garnered an invite to a party she'd thrown last weekend, had met a few of her friends and enjoyed watching her struggle to lose graciously when his aim had been superior to hers over a game of beer pong.

Losing, Klaus had gathered, was not something Caroline did often. They've kept things light and friendly and so far always public. That hasn't stopped Klaus from thinking about her in private.

He's been drawing her. Nothing lascivious, but he's fascinated by the slope of her shoulder, the dip of her clavicle. It's been hindering his progress with his final project and he's begun to wonder what Caroline would say if he broached the subject of her acting as his model.

He's hesitant for several reasons. First, the less than savory experience she'd had with that bloke who'd attempted to call smearing canvases with blood and spit and semen _art_. Second is the fact that his project would involve him spending copious amounts of time with Caroline while she was naked and he's not entirely certain that his self-control is up to the task. Finally, however did one even _begin_ to ask a woman if she'd mind if he painted her naked body and photographed it?

There was context, sure. It was still an awfully large and possibly invasive request. There was every possibility that she would say no, write him off as a pervert, and never speak to him again. Something Klaus wanted to avoid, having grown fond of her sharp tongue and biting sense of humor.

He hears the door to the small theatre they use for these sessions creep open, the smack-smack of flip flops against feet a second later. He turns to see Caroline bouncing down the steps, "Guess who just aced their first test of the semester? This girl!" she crows, beaming with happiness.

Klaus smiles back, mostly because he's unable _not_ to with the glee radiating from her. "Good job, sweetheart."

"Why thank you!" She dips a faint curtsey at the bottom of the steps, before she hops up onto the raised platform he's on. She twirls around, eyes scanning the room. "Yep, this is exactly like I remember it. Less scary this time, so that's a plus."

"Scary?" Klaus questions. She'd seemed so blasé about the process whenever they've spoken of it, this is the first he's heard her sound less than confident.

Caroline's head whips to face him, expression incredulous, "Um, being naked in front of strangers is the stuff of people's nightmares for a _reason_, Klaus. My first time I literally spent three hours the night before shaving every nook and cranny imaginable and coating myself in coconut oil."

The mental image of Caroline, skin bare and gleaming, is not one that Klaus had needed but he's sure it'll pop up again to distract him later. He clears his throat and peels his eyes away from her, "You've never let on that it bothered you, love."

"I'm a firm believer in fake it till you make it," Caroline tells him. "Besides, you kind of get used to it? I half expected some idiot from one of the classes to come and try to perv on me in somewhere on campus but no one's ever approached me in public and mentioned this little side job of mine."

"There are _very_ strict rules about that," Klaus says, a hint of anger at the idea that someone might _try_ bleeding in. "It's an automatic failure of this class. And considering that it's a required credit that can be a serious hindrance to progress in the program. You'll let me know if you have trouble with _anyone_."

"Before or after I kick them in the balls?"

He's startled out of his darker thoughts, finds a laugh spilling from him. She's perfectly serious and, in all honestly, Klaus would bet on Caroline against most other people. She's very smart, with a ruthless streak that suggests that tangling with her is a very bad idea.

Klaus would be lying if he claimed not to find it arousing.

The door creaks open again, admitting a diminutive girl with bright purple hair. She hesitates at the top of the step, eyes flitting between him and Caroline, clearly noting the very small space between them. "I could come back?" she offers, glancing back at the door.

Regretfully, Klaus steps away from Caroline, retrieving the folder he'd set on a nearby stool. "It's fine," he calls, waving her in. "We're just prepping for the session. Caroline here will be our model."

Caroline waves, open and friendly, and the girl ventures further into the room, selecting an easel near the middle and beginning to unpack her supplies. "How do you want me?" Caroline asks, low voiced and a touch throaty, favoring him with a look that nearly makes his breath catch.

"You're going to make it very hard for me to be professional here, aren't you?" Klaus asks, low enough not to be heard and mostly resigned.

He'd already devised a list of unsexy things he could think of in hopes of preventing any embarrassing visible reactions that might occur.

Caroline's lips curl, her eyes lighting up, looking at him in manner that Klaus instinctively knows is dangerous. "Maybe. You still interested in _personal_ demonstrations?"

Klaus doesn't even have to think about it, the yes spilling out before he's totally processed the implications. Did she really mean….

"Your place or mine?" Caroline asks, sidling up to him and taking the folder from his stilled hands. She presses her side along his, speaking quietly and flipping through the pages with the poses they're doing the class. "I'm done class at 3 and you don't have anything after this, right?"

She was offering _exactly_ what he'd thought and there's no way he's not going to take her up on it.

"Mine," Klaus grits out. "I'll be there when you're done class."

He doesn't have a roommate and he's not willing to chance Caroline's being around. He'll not have her stifling herself, has thought of her spread out and writhing in his bed often and he wants every reaction he teases out of her to be genuine and unthinking.

The only issue will be getting out of this class without thinking about it _more_. Somehow Klaus knew thinking of football statistics and root canals would be insufficiently dampening when he knew that he was mere hours from making his fantasies a reality.

He takes a side long glance at Caroline, takes in the cat in cream smile on her face. It hits him that she'd _planned_ this, wanted to _torture_ him a little bit.

Klaus would just have to come up with a fitting revenge.

* * *

She's barely dropped her hand from the wood, the sound of her knock still echoing down the hall when the door to Klaus apartment is yanked open. "Been expecting me?" she asks, raising a brow and taking him in as she crosses the threshold. His curls are a little wild, like he's been running his hands through them, and there's paint flecked all over him, reds and purples staining his shirt and jeans and even speckling his bare feet.

It's a _good_ look.

Klaus is watching her hungrily as he shuts and locks the door, and she likes it. "You're a cruel woman, Caroline Forbes."

She grins, and bounces on her toes, about to shoot back something sassy about how that's obviously not a deal breaker for him, when Klaus steps into her and her breath stutters out in a whoosh at the feel of the lean heat of him, the tension in his frame evident. He backs her into the wall, one hand cradling the back of her head as he pushes her into it.

Maybe she'd taunted him a little _too_ much.

He wraps his hand in her ponytail and Caroline lets him tilt her head back, presses her lips together to hold in a sigh as he drops a lingering kiss under her jaw. "Did you have fun today, Caroline?"

She lifts a shoulder in a shrug that has the added benefit of allowing Klaus to smooth the strap of her tank away, baring more skin for his exploring lips and teeth. "Kinda," she manages, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces her collarbone. She reaches for him, hands stroking down his sides before slipping under his shirt to find bare skin.

Klaus had been forced to circle the room during class but she'd caught his eyes whenever possible, enjoyed watching the clench of his jaw grow tighter and tighter as the hour dragged on and the heat between them continued to sizzle. It had been a nice distraction from the strain in her muscles at having to keep still for so long. _She'd_ been turned on but her visible physical reactions could have been chalked up to the chill in the room though Klaus knew the truth. Her pose had been a seated one, legs pressed together and turned to the side as she held one arm above her head, hand tangled in her hair and back arched at an angle that quickly became uncomfy. When he'd approached her at the end to hand her a robe to cover herself she'd let her legs slip open, confident his body would shield her from view and from his audible gulp he'd gotten an eyeful at the slickened skin of her inner thighs.

Caroline knew for a fact that she had no 'paint me like one of your French girls' kink. She'd gotten through multiple sessions last year with zero reaction, had left vaguely achy wanting nothing more than a bubble bath and some Ben and Jerry's. This latest class hadn't been anything different, the sea of students that blended together, Professor LaRue murmuring comments, the scratch of pencils on paper all familiar.

Klaus was the only new variable so it stood to reason that she should explore her reaction with him, right?

One of his hands palms her breast, thumb sweeping slow circles around her nipple. She hadn't bothered to put her bra back on post-nude modelling session and he murmurs appreciatively as it hardens under his touch. Caroline holds back a whine at the too light pressure. She bends her arm at the elbow, reluctantly giving up her hand's exploration of Klaus' torso. He helps her peel her shirt down to her waist. He fumbles with the elastic holding her hair up, tugs it out and tosses it aside impatiently, pulling back to look as her hair tumbles around her shoulders. Her breathing is rapid, chest rising and falling with the force of it and he licks his lips slowly as he studies the movements of her breasts. "I've been thinking about this for weeks," he rasps, stroking over her ribs.

Did he really think she _hadn't_? "Me too."

His eyes gleam, head bending and he traces the slope of her breast delicately with his mouth, holding her steady when she tries to arch and get more. "Really? And what did _you_ think of, Caroline?"

She huffs out a laugh, "Do you want my dirty thoughts chronologically? Or should I try to alphabetize them for you?"

"Start with the first."

She moans when he pulls her nipple into his mouth, grips his hair at the faint hint of his teeth, "I thought about climbing across that tiny desk in your office. You seemed to like my legs. I wondered what you'd have done if I'd have had the ovaries to wiggle out of my shorts and spread them for you."

He curses softly, hand dropping to caress the length of her leg, lifting her skirt as he moves up. He traces the lacy band of her underwear and Caroline's thighs part in encouragement, "I'd have teased you with my fingers, and licked your clit until everyone in that hall heard you beg for me. What was next, love?"

"The bar. Oh…" he strokes over covered folds, pressing near her clit and Caroline loses her train of thought, going up on her tiptoes as his fingers slip underneath the lace.

"Mmm," he hums against her skin, standing taller to nuzzle her throat. "Did I touch you under the table, get you wet for me, just like this while you tried not to squirm too noticeably?"

Caroline claws at his shoulders as he slips a finger inside of her. Klaus withdraws quickly and she can't help the noise of complaint that she makes. It dies in her throat when he finds her clit, his soaked fingers rubbing experimentally. He's a quick study, manages to find the pattern that makes her hips rock against him, soft sighs and pleas falling from her lips. Her eyes drift shut, that familiar ache beginning to build.

Until Klaus stops, fingers pressed against her but resisting her insistent motions. She peels her eyes open and glares at him accusingly, sucks in a breath at finding his eyes dark and boring into hers, lips reddened like he's been biting them. "Was that your fantasy, Caroline? Getting off with my fingers buried inside of you, secretly, no one the wiser?"

She swallows hard, the hoarseness of his question sending another flutter of arousal through her. Her voice is no steadier, "You fucked me in the bathroom, actually. Jammed the door shut and bent me over the sink."

Klaus' control snapping is every bit as satisfying as she'd imagined.

A low sound rumbles from deep in his chest and she's cold as he pulls away from her, but only for a second. He tears his shirt over his head before grabbing her waist, yanking her into him and slanting his mouth over hers. The kiss is frantic, greedy and wet, his licks into her mouth and moans as he tastes her, stumbling back as his hands pull at the rest of her clothes.

Caroline's not much of a help, mapping the planes of his torso and trying to discover every spot that makes him twitch. The bump into something solid and Caroline tears her mouth away from his in confusion. "Turn around," Klaus grits out. "We'll do slow in my bed later. I'd be happy to have you writhing on my tongue at some point afterwards. Before even, if you'd like. But for right now I need you and I need a condom."

Caroline nods eagerly. She is so totally onboard, her body clenching down in anticipation of the fullness she's been craving since he'd pressed her against the wall. She turns and braces her hands on the table, arching her back impatiently when she hears him fumbling with his pants. His hands rest on her hips as she hears the clang of his belt hitting the floor and Caroline leans forward as she feels his cock prod at her entrance. She's plenty ready for him but he teases her, one hand slipping down her belly to toy with her clit once more. "Klaus," she groans, her displeasure with the lack of the promised _fucking_ currently happening evident. "I want…"

He eases in, hissing out a curse as she clamps down around his length. She grabs his wrist, urging him to keep touching her before she brings her own up to pull at her nipple, pressing back so he sinks in deeper. "Fuck, Caroline. You're…"

He bites down on her shoulder as he withdraws and Caroline forgets the sting as he thrusts into her, faster and rougher and _so much_ better than before.

It's wild and messy in the best ways after that, Caroline's sure there will be bruises where her thighs bang into the table but she can't care with the way Klaus begins to talk, roughly voiced praises for how good she feels, sweetly lewd promises about all the things he wants to do to her. They move together like they've done this before, Klaus reading what works so well that Caroline's eyes are soon rolling back into her head as her knees weaken. A tiny adjustment of the angle has his cock scraping against a perfect spot inside of her, vision going hazy as she begins to come in long waves. She collapses onto the table as she shudders through it, Klaus hot at her back, hips jerking erratically against her as he comes with a guttural grunt of her name.

He's not idle for long, lips smoothing kisses down the length of her spine, his hands warm and reverent on her skin. She hears him discard the condom, turns when he brushes a kiss over her cheek. "I think you said something about a bed?" she asks.

As good as round one had been she's going to consider it a warm up. She'd only gotten through two fantasies. She has many, many more.

Klaus lips still and she thinks she can feel his body react, a slight jerk of his cock coming back to life against her ass, a stiffening of the arms that are caging her in. "I did," he murmurs.

Caroline pushes herself to her feet, reaching back to tangle her fingers with his, "Good. I get to be on top this time and the bed's gonna be comfiest on my knees."

His swallow is harsh and audible, his grip on her hand turning urgent.

Caroline's not surprised. She really hadn't thought he'd object.

* * *

"What are those? Caroline asks him, her eyes on the bulletin board across the room. She's surprised him with a makeshift picnic and they're sprawled on the floor of his studio picking at the last of it. They've been together for close to a month now, have progressed to proper dates and casual companionable moments like these.

Klaus likes them every bit as much as he likes the nights she spends at his flat and he suspects Caroline does too.

He follows her gaze, unable to help the faint noise of frustration when he realizes what she's talking about. "Wallpaper. Sort of, anyway."

"I didn't know you did anything like that," Caroline replies, appearing puzzled.

"I don't. Not often. It's for my final project." She waits for him to continue, scraping her plastic spoon against the bottom of her pudding cup determinedly. "My idea is…" he gropes for a way to describe it before he decides that it's easier to _show_ her. He unfolds himself from the floor, retrieving a sketchbook before rejoining her. "If I had my way I would just paint a couple of canvases and be done with it but we're _apparently_ required to show that our exorbitant tuition fees have allowed us to learn an abundance of things."

Her lips twitch as she flips open the cover her eyes running over the mock ups he'd done. Her brows rise, "So you want to paint people?"

"So they blend into the wallpaper I've designed, yes. And then photograph the results for my exhibit at the end of the year." He waits for her reaction, watching her expression carefully. He's not really spoken to anyone about this, save for his advisor, and he's both anxious and curious to see what Caroline thinks of his concept.

She pages through several more drawings, studying the details avidly, before glancing back at him. "I mean, I know we've covered that I'm an art philistine but I think this is really cool, Klaus. I can't wait to see it."

The breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding whooshes out and Caroline smiles softly though she doesn't comment. "Just don't go falling in love with another art model type, okay? It'll make me feel cheap."

He starts a little at the word _love_, idly wonders if he should be bothered by it while she begins to tidy up. Klaus has never been one for deep connections, is picky about the people he lets in. It's been surprisingly easy with Caroline and he doesn't see that changing. He's not in love with her yet but the seeds are there.

And her joking comment brings him nicely to something that's been nagging at him, "Or," he says, feigning casualness. "You could pose for me."

She stills, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Klaus rushes to explain, "No pressure, sweetheart. None at all. But I think you'd be good at it, first of all. You're easily the best of the models for the figure drawing classes. Additionally, I've spent and inordinate amount of time thinking about your body recently and I think I have the perfect sets and poses worked out. That's very selfish, I know but I think you realized that about me, have you not?"

Caroline appears faintly amused, "That you're selfish or that you spend a lot of time mentally perving on me?"

Klaus winces, recognizing that he perhaps could have worded that better. Caroline giggles before he can attempt to elaborate, "Because if it's the second one I'd say you're entitled. I mentally _perv_ on you all the time."

Relieved (and more than a little flattered) Klaus leans over, brushes his lips across hers as he rests his hand on her (unfortunately denim covered) thigh. "Really?" he purrs suggestively, "Tell me more?"

She deepens the kiss, biting down on his lower lip teasingly before pulling away, "Mmm," she hums, "Just this morning in my shower. Thankfully Enzo didn't come home last night so I took a loooonnng one. Whoever invented waterproof vibrators was a _genius_."

He doesn't even think before lunging for her, the taunt sending a heated rush of interest through him. He follows her down as he kisses her frantically, "It's criminal that you've not brought that over to my place, love," he growls when he tears his mouth away, setting his lips to her rapid pulse point. "After all, it's not like there's anyone to disturb."

She hitches her leg over his hip, back arching as she grinds up against him, "Noted," she gasps. "This weekend? Maybe after you get things set up for your final project? We'll have to hang out in the shower to get all the paint off anyway, so…"

Klaus pulls back to look at her, shock and pleasure flooding him, "Does that mean you'll do it?"

She settles back to meet his eyes, "Yeah, I think so? Most of your sketches are in profile, right? So no one will really know it's me. Plus, I'll be covered in paint. And it's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

"Very true. I plan to continue seeing you naked often, actually."

Unfortunately, he can't right now, even if the door to his studio is locked. Caroline's got class in half an hour and if they take of their clothes the likelihood she'll miss it is quite high. It'll make her fretful later on, she'll spend the evening rereading her chapter notes, pouring over the set from the lecture she'll have borrowed from one of her classmates.

She's _very_ serious about maintaining her near flawless GPA. Klaus respects that, understands why it's important to her even if he worries a bit. He'd rather she stay calm and confident, hates the little wrinkle of unhappiness that forms between her brows when she gets anxious.

_Sex_ is out, at least for now. That doesn't mean he doesn't have options. Klaus shifts off of her, props himself up on his elbow and flicks open the button of her jeans. Caroling sucks in a deep breath, conveniently making it easier for Klaus to slip his hand into the tight denim.

He can easily get her off at least once before she has to go. Show his gratitude for her assistance _and_ do his part in keeping Caroline happy and relaxed.

* * *

In the end things with his project hadn't moved all _that_ quickly. It had taken Klaus a couple weeks to get everything together. He had to actually have his prints made and they'd had some trial and error where the whole hanging wallpaper thing was concerned.

Caroline's keen eye for detail had totally saved the day and the fun they'd had in the shower had easily smoothed over the bumps that had cropped up during their first attempt at a team project.

They were both stubborn and used to getting their own way. Clashes were inevitable but Caroline thought they had the tools to work through them for the most part. Angry sex followed by makeup sex followed by post coital cuddling and joking about the arguments that had led to all the sex was a delightful reconciliation process.

Fingers crossed that it served them just as well in the future especially considering that they had six more adventures in wallpaper, followed by some painting in an attempt to save Klaus' security deposit, in their future.

She's standing in the corner of the room they'd papered shifting nervously from foot to foot, telling herself that it's silly to be nervous. She'd spent a lot of time naked in Klaus' presence and he'd had zero complaints. Why did the thought of him getting up close and personal with every inch of her skin freak her out _now_?

It's just… _that_ had always been sexual. Grasping hands and greedy mouths, sighs and moans and _need_. This was different, kind of clinical.

Klaus is busy setting up the drop cloth but he immediately senses her nerves when he glances up and takes in her fidgeting. He stands slowly, "Alright, love? Second thoughts?"

She blows out a breath and squares her shoulders. Time to see if fake it till you make it would save her ass once more. She lifts a hand and smooths her hair, checking to see that it's still neatly pinned up before she shakes her head slightly, "Nope!" she chirps, "I _want_ to do this."

Klaus is clearly not entirely fooled by her forced cheerfulness and attempts to reassure her, "Because it's fine if you _are_ having them, Caroline.

She grabs his hand and squeezes, "I know. I do want to do this. I guess I'm just a little freaked out? You clearly like having sex with me but what if this changes that? There are moles and freckles and a couple of stretch marks and some weird scars that are going to be _super_ in your face."

Klaus eyes widen as understanding dawns, incredulity and maybe a tiny bit of offense visible. "Caroline, trust me. None of those things are going to change my mind about you. It's just not possible."

"How do you know?" she asks, hoping it doesn't come out _too_ needy.

Klaus remains perfectly reasonable, not a second of hesitation in his answer, "Do you honestly think I'm _only_ interested in your body at this point? You spent two days planted on my couch with a migraine and no interest in sex last week because you claimed Enzo is incapable of walking softly. Would I have allowed that if I didn't enjoy _you_?'

He'd been ridiculously sweet, actually. Creeping around his own darkened apartment and trying to ply her with tea. Would he have done that if his feelings were so shallow? Intellectually Caroline knew the answer.

She nods, offers a more genuine smile. "I _have_ been told I am a terrible patient so I suppose you must be really into me to endure it."

Klaus fiddles with the neckline of her robe, "I would agree with that assessment," he says seriously, dodging her attempts to poke him in retribution. "I will, of course, require the stories behind your 'weird' scars."

"Secret kink?" Caroline asks pointedly. "Not sure how I feel about that. The scars aren't that _that_ weird. I have a circle on my knee from when Elena gouged me with her nail during a cheerleading lift. The usual bike accidents and falls."

His smile is soft, fingertip tracing her collarbone, "Scars? Not something that turns me on. But if wanting to know more about you classifies as a kink, well…"

"Cheesy," she mutters, but she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot.

She kinda liked cheesy, okay? And when Klaus did it he did it _well_.

* * *

He'd known as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she was completely mistaken. Half an hour into the business of painting Klaus has moved his classification Caroline's idea that this would make him stop wanting her from ridiculous to _insane_. He'd started at her face, knowing he could more easily cover any drips or mistakes if he worked his way down.

Caroline's nose had wrinkled at the first touch of the brush to a spot near her eyebrow, and she'd pushed him away, turning her head to the side. She'd shaken herself after a moment and slowly faced him again, a little sheepish, "Sorry. That felt weird. Like I was going to sneeze."

Klaus hadn't been able to hide a smile, "It's fine. It'll be a slow process so I imagine you'll get used to it."

She'd nodded, closed her eyes, and turned her face up slightly to signal she was ready again. "I'm totally realizing that the not talking part is going to be the hardest."

He'd made a sympathetic noise. The paint tightened when it dried and moving increased the possibility it would crack overly much and not photograph well. They'd done a few trial runs of limited parts of her body to allow her to get a feel for it. Caroline had assured him that she could handle it but had requested he capture the photos as quickly as possible once the painting was complete.

There'd been so much talk of her comfort that Klaus hadn't thought to consider his.

He was painfully turned on, had been since he'd helped her position her arms and focused his attention of her breasts, the way she was trying to hold back the urge to twitch as he stroked paint over her peaked nipples and the shallow little pants that she occasionally emitted.

He gritted his teeth and pushed on, telling himself that Caroline was doing him a _favor_, and that running his work by pulling her to the ground would be highly inconvenient for her. He'd pulled a chair over as he set to work on her stomach and hips, telling himself to think of her skin like it was just another boring blank canvas.

Canvases didn't react, though. They weren't soft and lovely and responsive, reacting with faint quivers and tightening under his touch. She'd shaken with near silent laughter as he'd painted over her sensitive sides, barely managing to hold the position. She's calmed as he worked on her abdomen but she lets out a tiny moan as he trails paint over her pubic bone, the muscles in her thighs shaking slightly. "Sorry," she breathes out, and Klaus allows himself to look up at her. "Sorry, this is…" she fumbles for words, eyes huge and hazy looking.

It's a look he knows very well, one he craves and works _very_ hard to put on her face. The brush clatters to the floor unnoticed. Klaus licks his lips, keeps his question very even, doesn't want her to feel like she _has_ to say no, "Would you mind terribly if we called this a trial run?"

She shakes her head and moves in quick jerky movements, shoving him back into the chair and straddling his lap. Klaus wipes his hand on his jeans, glad that according to Caroline's very thorough research the paint is completely body safe. She grinds against him, her hands gripping the back of the chair for leverage, her movements near desperate. Klaus slips his hand between her thighs, groans as he finds her hot and _soaked_. Her head falls back as he pushes two fingers inside of her, thumb finding her clit as he curls them. He's learned just how she likes to be touched and she rocks against his hand, quick frantic jerks of her hips that tell him this won't take long.

Had he known the process was leaving her this worked up he never would have lasted so long.

He slides his free hand up her body, uncaring as the paint smears, filling his palm with her breast and wishing he could use his mouth.

She shatters with a short cry, pulsing around his fingers and falling forward to bury her face in his neck. Her ragged exhales fanning against his skin have him greedy for more. "Again," Klaus grits out, standing and lifting her with him. Caroline's still a little dazed, pliant and sated in his arms, and doesn't complain when he switches their positions. She idly runs her hand through his hair when he lifts her thigh over his shoulder and bends to flick his tongue over her clit. She jerks once and Klaus softens the touch, licking over her in slow passes until the faint taste of the paint is gone and she's moving up against his mouth, her own hand cupping her breast as she tugs at his hair and pleads with him to let her come.

Klaus watches her with something like awe, ignoring his cock straining at the zipper of his jeans. She's covered in smeared paint, her hair half pulled down around her face, eyes closed and mouth slack as she gasps, chasing a release that he knows will only make her more beautiful.

Contrary to what Caroline had assumed he's never wanted her more.

* * *

She snags two flutes of champagne, takes a swig of hers as she saunters over to Klaus. Holds in the grimace because it's really kind of terrible.

Oh well. She had something better stashed back at Klaus' for their private post-show party. He spots her approaching and smiles, saying a few final words to Professor LaRue before he makes his way over to her. He brushes a kiss over her cheek as he takes the champagne. His eyes flit over her with warm appreciation, and she fights an answering smirk of her own when she remembers of how his jaw had dropped when she'd first walked out of the dressing room with this particular dress on. "How did your interview go?" he murmurs.

She beams but tries for modesty. This crowd, somber and serious and dressed in black, so wouldn't appreciate her happy dance. She'll treat Klaus to a play by play of just how hard she'd rocked it later. "Pretty good. I'm betting they make an offer."

One that would take her to the same city Klaus was headed to, something they both really wanted post-graduation.

He appears pleased, "I had few doubts but congratulations, love." She graciously decided to ignore the teeny I told you so. She _had_ kept him up last night with her tossing and turning and he also had a big day today. Just this once she'd let it slide. Caroline glances around the room, notes that most people seem engrossed in the carefully lit photos stationed throughout the room, "How's it going here?"

He takes a moment to consider, "Fairly well, I think. People have been complimentary. Curious about my muse," he teases, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You muse or your muse's rack?" Caroline asks knowingly.

Klaus' lips press together and he strives for seriousness, "Both, I'd imagine. Though they're polite enough not to comment over much on your assets."

Caroline takes another look around, eyes sweeping the faces of those nearby with more interest, "What's polite got to do with it? My boobs are fantastic and should totally be admired, thank you very much."

He makes a low noise of amusement but swallows it before it can become a full laugh. "I'd be happy to admire them to your heart's content when we get home."

Caroline's going to hold him to that.


	76. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 12

**Notes: **A teeny bit o' fluff for Klaroline + At The Office day of 25daysofklaroline.

**Back Office Intrigue**

**(Prompt: KC+ "i'm hiring you as a favour to my friend you better be good" au. Rated K+)**

There's a knock at his office door and Klaus takes a minute to remind himself he has to be _nice_ – or else he risks Rebekah's wrath – before he calls for his 4 PM interview to enter.

This little meeting is just a formality. The job's hers if she wants it, even if she turns out to be an unbearable moron. Caroline Forbes is the best friend of Rebekah's current (and longest lasting to date) boyfriend Enzo. She was moving to Chicago to get what he'd been told was a belated start on her education and was in need of a job and quickly. She had an apartment lined up but the city wasn't cheap and she'd reached out to Enzo in hopes that he could supply her with a lead or two.

That was where Klaus came in. His bar was always busy and they had an incredibly high turnover of the wait staff. Some people simply couldn't handle the high volume and he had little patience for incompetence.

Serving drinks with a smile wasn't _that_ difficult though you'd never know it from watching some of the bumbling idiots who'd worked behind his bar over the last few years.

From what Klaus had gathered Rebekah hadn't any fondness for Enzo's friend but his little sister was nothing if not keen to look out for her own interests. Enzo was the generous short and, if his best friend happened to remain down on her luck, he'd be quick to offer assistance, perhaps his couch, something Rebekah would _loathe_.

Her lover's attention split? Enzo not available to immediately cater to her ever whim? The stuff of Rebekah's nightmares.

She'd paid him a visit three days ago, all sugar smiles and faux concern about how busy he was covering shifts since he'd _once again_ had a waitress walk out in tears.

He may have been a bit harsh but, in Klaus' defense, the girl had dropped _three_ trays. She'd not even been through _half_ her shift. She obviously was not cut out for the service industry. Was it really a crime for him to have pointed that out?

Klaus, familiar with Rebekah's tricks, had let her prattle on, only half listening, knowing that she'd eventually wind her way to a point. Eventually she'd casually mentioned that she knew someone, _with_ experience, who was looking for a post immediately and would Klaus perhaps like to meet her?

The holidays were fast approaching, Bekah had said. Things would only get busier.

He'd been instantly suspicious. Rebekah had never shown even an ounce of interest in the more tedious aspects of running the bar. As long as she received service the second she caught a bartenders eye, and they didn't bother her about a silly thing like _payment_, she didn't care who mixed the drink. A few minutes of back and forth, and Klaus had ascertained exactly how Bekah knew the girl she'd been attempting to foist on him and that she actually didn't know Enzo's friend all that well.

He'd declined at first, mostly to be contrary and also because he'd rather his employees not have any personal connections to his family. His siblings had a tendency to hang around and Klaus was forever kicking Kol out for leering at the waitresses, even those that seemed susceptible to his brother's advances.

Klaus didn't want to deal with any dramatic nonsense once Kol's inevitably wandering gaze shifted away from whatever woman who was in Klaus' employ.

_Then_ Rebekah had played a card she'd been holding on to. He shouldn't have been surprised because blackmail amongst the siblings was far from uncommon. He'd just been a bit taken aback that she cared so much about this particular issue and was willing to bring up The Cabin Fire Incident.

Kol had taken the brunt of the blame for the small fire that had destroyed the porch at the ski cabin Elijah had rented for the holidays three years ago even though he'd swore, repeatedly _and_ emphatically, it wasn't his fault.

In truth it hadn't been but Elijah hadn't taken him seriously. Kol _did_ have a habit of twisting situations to put his actions in the best light, often wouldn't cop to misdeeds. Elijah had insisted Kol cough up the funds to cover the damages. Klaus had been irritated with Kol for one reason or another at the time – a common enough occurrence that he no longer remembered the source – and so had kept quiet about the fire's true source.

Oil paints, liquor and candlelight did _not_ mix well.

Somehow Rebekah had sussed it out, threatened to tell both Elijah and Kol, and Klaus frankly had not been willing to deal with the headache that entailed.

Somehow he doubted they'd be content to leave it in the past. And with various holidays coming up and forced proximity to his family inevitable Klaus had decided to cave to Rebekah's request despite the unfortunate precedent he'd set.

He only hoped it didn't come back to bite him in the future.

Klaus shuffles papers to the side of the desk and glances up as his office door opens. He sees blonde curls first, slightly windblown as she slips into his office.

Klaus is suddenly far clearer on just _why_ Rebekah's distaste for Caroline was evident even if she'd been trying to talk the other woman up. Her boyfriend having a female best friend would have been enough of an affront to Rebekah's sensibilities if the girl had been homely.

Something Caroline Forbes is _definitely_ not.

She offers him a small slightly nervous smile as she stops next to his desk, extending her hand. "Hi. I'm Caroline. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me."

Klaus grasps her hand and stands, "I'm Klaus and it's my pleasure," he tells her, glad that she'll never know it was a complete and utter lie. "How are you finding Chicago, love?" He nods to the armchairs that are meant for guests and waits until she's settled into one before he takes a seat.

Her hands twist in her lap and she lets out a soft laugh, "It's… different. I'm always kinda terrified that I'll get lost but so far so good."

"Rebekah tells me you're from Virginia? Forgive me but the name of the town escapes me. I know that's where you met Enzo."

"I grew _up_ in Mystic Falls. Met Enzo at college, a town a little ways away called Whitmore."

Right, now Klaus is remembering the story. Some of the details had been vague. He tries to phrase his next question delicately, "And now you're going back to school? A second degree or…"

Her smile turns a bit brittle and she shakes her head, "No, I had to drop out. I moved back home to deal with some family stuff. That's where I started bartending. At a restaurant slash bar called The Grille. I tried to commute and go part time for a while but it just didn't work out."

Klaus finds his curiosity piqued though he knows it would be impolite to pry. Perhaps later on, once they were better acquainted.

Caroline sits up straighter in her chair, an air of determination crossing her features, "Anyway, I am totally familiar with mixing drinks. And I know it gets pretty busy here and you might think I can't handle it but The Grille was literally the only place that served alcohol in town and it could get pretty rowdy. It's the south and we take our football seriously so trust me Super Bowl Sunday was nothing to sneeze at. I'm smart and hard-working and I am _really_ efficient."

Klaus does his very best to keep a neutral expression. He finds her little rant oddly charming but thinks that if he laughs she might assume he's patronizing her.

Something tells him she wouldn't appreciate it.

"Well, as luck would have it I'm in a bit of a bind. Can you start tomorrow?"

She blinks, surprise plain across her face. There's a long pause and she's looking at him like he expects him to tell her he'd been joking. Finally, she opens her mouth. "I… can do that," she stutters.

"Lovely. Can you start at 3? We'll get your paperwork sorted right now and tomorrow I'll run you through the basics, where to find things, the register, etc. before things pick up with the post work crowd."

A task Klaus was usually keen to delegate. He wasn't very good at answering the endless questions – often silly or stupid – that new employees seem to have in abundance.

Something about Caroline intrigues him, the bit of steely determination he'd glimpsed, and so he'll make an exception. It may raise a few eyebrows but most of his employees would be unwilling to ask any too pointed questions about it.

She nods enthusiastically, "That's perfect. Thank you _so_ much."

Klaus waves away her gratitude and digs out the file he'd prepared, hands her a pen and the first of many tedious legal forms. He can't be upset about them today, idly planning on working in a few hopefully casual seeming inquiries about Caroline's studies and interests.

He suddenly regrets that he's never been particularly nice to Enzo, knows that any attempts to pump the other man for more information about Caroline will be met with hostility and may very well lead back to her, making things exponentially more difficult for Klaus to get to know Caroline and see if his interest holds.

He rather suspects it will.

Eventually, if things progress, he may even have to do something to set Rebekah off, have her spill the beans to Kol as a method of distraction. If Kol was busy raging about the blame he'd shouldered for the burned porch, the funds he'd been forced to part with, he might not notice Klaus breaking his own rule about fraternizing with employees.


	77. 25DaysofKlaroline16 - Day 13

**Notes:** For Klaroline + Celebs day of 25daysofKlaroline. I did two small things, a new drabble and a mini sequel.

**Ain't So Easy**

**(Prompt: klaroline + "we broke up and I am making a fool out of myself so the media focus on me instead of you, so they might think I am the one who broke up with you. Even though I do hope you'll take me back" maybe? Title from "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing" by Jack Johnson. Rated K+)**

He's awoken by the insistent ringing of his phone, loud and shrill from the pillow next to his head. He'd tried to ignore it but it just won't _stop_. Klaus grabs for it but only manages to shove it off the bed. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut and feels relief when the incessant ringing finally ceases.

He's fairly certain it's the middle of the night and entirely positive that he's still drunk. Not in a fit state to talk with anyone.

Klaus gropes for the blanket he'd kicked off at some point, planning on burrowing into it and not emerging for at least another 8 to 10 hours.

_Unfortunately_ whoever is trying to contact him has other ideas.

His phone starts up again, all the more annoying with the slight echo it makes having landed in the narrow crevice between his side table and his bed. Heaving himself over he shoves his arm down, groping around until his fingers brush glass. He yanks it up, starring fuzzily at the screen.

It takes a second for the letters to arrange themselves into something recognizable and when they do Klaus wonders if this is a particularly vivid dream.

Caroline Forbes is calling him.

_After_ making it clear that she had no desire to continue their _personal_ relationship though she'd told him that she trusted they could continue to have a cordial professional one. They would have a movie to promote in a year or so, after all. Couldn't have the public thinking there was friction between the director and her leading man.

Now why, Klaus wondered fuzzily, could she possibly be calling him at the _very_ un-businesslike hour of 3:42 AM?

He clears his throat before answering though it still sounds like he'd swallowed gravel, "Morning, love. To what do I owe the pleasure? Surely you can't miss me that much already?"

He hears her blow out a breath, "Shit. I forgot about the time difference. Sorry, Klaus. But…"

She feels genuinely bad for disturbing him, Klaus can tell. But there's an edge in her voice that he doesn't like. He recognizes it. Caroline had been under a ton of pressure helming her first studio film. She'd been subject to plenty to scrutiny from the people whose money she was spending, made to justify choices running the gamut from budgetary to artistic. It had weighed on her more than once, her posture becoming tense and smile brittle after she'd walked away from a meeting or a drawn out call.

Klaus had always done his best to distract her. With jokes and taunts if they were on set and being observed. Privately, he hadn't needed to use words, had delighted in making her lose the ability to formulate any coherent ones of her own.

Klaus pushes himself into a sitting position against his headboard, wincing at the stab of pain in his head. He makes a mental note to swallow a couple painkillers before going back to sleep, hopes his foresight will serve him well in the morning.

At least he wasn't set to meet with his new trainer, begin the punishing fitness regime for an upcoming sci fi project, until next week.

"It's fine. I'm awake now, what do you need, Caroline?"

"People _know_, Klaus."

Admittedly he's not at his best but, wracking his brain, Klaus has no idea what she's talking about. Really, it could be any number of things. "I'm going to need more information if you expect me to help you, love."

Her sigh is louder, far more exasperated. "_Someone_ on set sold us out, Klaus. A gossip site posted a couple pics that pretty clearly infer that we were together and a bunch of others are running with it. I had a dozen freaking paparazzi staking out my condo when I got home. I do _not_ want to deal with that, okay? It's why I…"

The snap of her teeth as she cuts herself off is audible, as is her shaky inhale and Klaus can't help latching on to the unfinished sentence. "Why you _what_?"

She'd broken up with him over a glass of wine in the bar of the hotel they'd been staying at whilst on location. It had been the day before they'd officially wrapped, Caroline had been calm and sweetly gentle when informing him that while she'd had a great time getting to know him and thought he was generally awesome (her words, immediately followed by "When you're not acting like you think you're Emperor of the Universe or being a stubborn pain in my ass.") she was too busy to start anything real. She'd gone on to cite the editing process for the film that she needed to oversee, that she'd be busy afterwards looking for another project, and that it just wouldn't work with Klaus set to start shooting in London shortly.

Perhaps he should have questioned her elaborate list of reasons sooner.

At the time Klaus had genuinely been dumfounded, having _thought_ things between them were progressing nicely, and more than a little hurt. He'd been completely unwilling to show it, had clinked his glass with hers and made a toast to, "Time well spent," and managed to politely chat with her about the scripts they were both perusing at the moment.

Later he'd treated himself to something stronger, grateful that he'd wrapped shooting already and was just hanging around for the cast and crew party and that he'd not need to actually work in the morning.

He'd also been there for Caroline though that had no longer been relevant. He'd _planned_ to entice her to take a quick trip somewhere warm with him, a small getaway before they both got slammed with work to solidify things between them and work out how they'd manage the distance going forward.

At least, judging from the pictures on her Instagram, Rebekah was enjoying herself at the private villa he'd booked in St. Lucia.

Caroline's silent on the other end. He thinks he hears movement, can easily picture her pacing in aggravation at what he imagines she views as an unfortunate slip. "Caroline," he prods, a touch impatiently.

She grumbles something inaudible.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he coaxes, injecting enough condescension into them to make her annoyed. Caroline was always more honest when her temper flared.

"You're a dick," she mutters and Klaus finds himself smiling. Mission accomplished and words begin spilling out of her. "And you're also super famous. I google stalked the crap out of you before deciding to offer you the part, you know. Asked around. Wanted to make sure there was nothing too skeleton-y and awful that would make you a PR risk."

He'd assumed as much. Caroline liked to be prepared. "And? Evidently I came up clean enough, did I not?"

"Kind of a lush in your downtime, not one to turn down a pretty girl who makes you an offer, known to occasionally butt heads with screenwriters because you like to mix things up during takes. That's the gist of what I got. Nothing too nasty and all things I knew I could roll with as a director so long as you showed up looking pretty and ready to nail your lines."

"As a director," Klaus repeats, a hint of understanding dawning. "But not as more than that?"

"Klaus…" her hesitance is clear even with the vast distance separating him.

"Tell me the truth, Caroline. Was I only fun to you? A bit of convenient stress relief? That's perfectly fine, and it's not as if I didn't get anything out of it. _But_ if it was more than that I'd quite like to know."

"Klaus, come on. You _have_ to know it was more than that. I'm not the actor here."

She sounds defeated and while Klaus doesn't enjoy it in the slightest he needs _more_. "Do I? Because you tried very hard to convince me otherwise the last time we spoke."

Her explanation comes quickly, every word clipped and forceful. "Listen, I started off as a drama major, okay? Teen me dreamed of magazine covers and stardom and my name in lights. Things change and that's not what I fell in love with at school. I've worked really freaking hard to get to where I am and I _don't_ want to be written off as Klaus Mikaelson's latest arm candy."

"You wouldn't be…"

She cuts him off with a bitter laugh, "I would be. It's already starting. Apparently you got bored of me, dumped me and took off. They're saying you aren't into women who attempt to call the shots. That you're looking to rekindle things with Katerina Petrova now that she's broken off her engagement with that baseball player."

Klaus' eyes close in aggravation. He and Katerina did not even _like_ one another, had often nearly come to blows the one time they'd worked together. If he never had to be in the same room as her again he would be delighted.

Additionally gossip sites remained _completely_ idiotic. Katherine's public image was carefully managed but she was far from docile or accommodating.

Caroline's rant continues, "And now I've got a pack of gross dudes with cameras shouting at me from my front lawn about putting my side of the story out there. All because you when you just _had_ to be stupidly charming and distracting and _persistent_."

"Just a few of my many fine qualities," he jokes lightly. Caroline's only answer is another noise of frustration and he sobers quickly. "I'm sorry, Caroline. For the gossip nonsense, I mean." Apologizing for pursuing her was not something Klaus was willing to do.

"It's not your fault," she admits, only slightly grudging. "I'll happily murder whoever was sneaking pictures of us once I find out who they are. I just thought you should know. Be prepared for your own photo happy stalkers though you must be at least _kind_ of used to it by now. God knows I saw enough pictures of you that you seemed to have no idea were being taken when I was researching."

"My place is private, excellent security. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah, I might have to look into an upgrade. _After_ I cross my fingers that this movie does well so I can afford it."

"I know several places near L.A. that you could stay," Klaus offers. "If things get to be too much." He knows how invasive photogs can be, hates that Caroline is dealing with them now, mostly alone.

"I might go hide out at Bonnie's. She's on tour and I have spare keys. Her community is gated so that would keep the worst of the press away. Thanks for the offer. You really don't have to be so nice to me, you know. I _did_ dump you last week. And, you know, woke you up at an ungodly time to whine about my problems."

Klaus makes his next offer impulsively, but Caroline's confessions had shifted a few things for him. He'd been morose lately, drinking to forget her, but that's done. He'd succeeded before despite Caroline's attempts to brush him off. Now that he knew she'd felt something for him he sees no reason not to continue his pursuit. Just more carefully this time. "It's not a problem, love. Feel free to call me and vent any time, day _or_ night."

"Really?" she asks skeptically. "You sure about that? I bet you can imagine that I need to vent _often_ even when I'm not working on a project that could possibly make my career."

"Positive. I think we should be friends, Caroline. And, given we'll be on opposite sides of the ocean for at least the next six months, it's not as if there will be anyone to get wind of it and harass you. Regarding the film there's no _possible_ about it. It's brilliant."

"Biased," she sing songs.

"Would you like to bet on it?" Klaus challenges.

"Um, you have way more money than me Mr. Got My First BAFTA At Age 21."

"I wasn't thinking money, love. We'll wager… a task. Of the winner's choosing. I bet that the film will be well received. Plus 70% on that silly tomato website you're so fond of."

"What kind of task?" she presses, a hint of suspicion evident.

Rather smart of her.

"I can't possibly decide now, can I? Not as sleep deprived as I am."

That finally draws a soft laugh from her and Klaus gives himself a mental pat on the back. "I suppose it's a bet then. I do reserve the right to veto anything too weird."

"Offensive," Klaus drawls. "What could I ask of you that was 'weird'?"

She makes a noise of disbelief, "Please, I know that you're _plenty_ imaginative, Klaus. I'm sure you could think of something."

"You never complained about my imagination before," Klaus points out. He manages to say it fairly neutrally, resists the urge to sway the conversation in a more sexual direction.

He's optimistic that there will be time for that down the line and he'd hate to only have to _imagine_ the spark in her eyes, or the blush to her creamy skin, if he hinted at some of the nights they'd spent together where sleep had been the last thing on their minds.

Caroline's own imagination had been _far_ from lacking much to Klaus' delight.

"Not the point," she tosses back though there's no real censure in it. "I should let you go back to bed. Sorry, again, for waking you up. And I'm sorry if I uh… woke anyone else up."

Was that a spark of jealousy he heard? How promising.

"You did not," he informs her. "And I meant it when I said I didn't want you to be sorry. I have an idea or two that should alleviate the interest on you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to," Klaus tells her firmly, unwilling to listen to any more arguments.

First he'd look up the articles Caroline had mentioned, figure out exactly what he was dealing with.

Then he'd need to call up his publicist. Marcel was forever hinting that it might be good for Klaus' image to settle down, had indicated the same in a more friendly way over off the clock shared drinks. He liked Caroline quite a bit so he imagined that, once Klaus stated his intentions, he could get Marcel on board and get him to drop a hint or two that Klaus was _far_ from ready to move on from Caroline.

It was only the truth.

Caroline didn't want to be an afterthought, wanted to make her own name, and Klaus respected that, had been genuine when he said that he thought the movie they'd just wrapped would do it and open a whole host of doors for her.

Perhaps _then_ she'd be willing to re-examine her feelings about starting something a touch more long lasting with him. He hoped she'd take him up on his offer, that they could work on a friendship. It would be a foundation that Klaus intended to build upon. He genuinely enjoyed talking to Caroline, found her clever and witty and just biting enough to be interesting. He thought she felt similarly, hoped that would help her come round to wanting to be with him more than she feared what that would entail.

If things went well over the phone it would be perfectly reasonable for Klaus to invite a friend to his very private estate outside London, wasn't it? Caroline would likely need to unwind after she finished the gruelling editing process. He'd consider which guest bedroom would best suit her tastes.

Even if she refused they _would_ inevitably be thrown together on a press tour and Klaus was confident that when the time came he could make a case - one even Caroline and her infinite stubbornness wouldn't be able to argue with - in person.

Klaus could be _very_ patient when his end goal was worth it.

**Start A Rumor (One Year Later…)**

**(Prompt: kc+ "'My girlfriend suckered me into dressing up as Santa at our charity fundraiser to raise money for the local children's hospital, and my god this fake beard is itchy'; she better make it up to me later" Celebrity AU. Original drabble can be found in 67. Rated T to light M? No actual smut.)**

When he walks into the house, the one he and Caroline had picked out together six months ago (disagreements over renovation projects were ongoing) he immediately notes that it smells _delicious_.

Which makes Klaus suspicious.

Caroline baked sparingly (her job required her to look like she could kill a man with her bare hands, she often said, and sweets _did not_ help one achieve that look). When she did it was generally either to deal with stress (which benefitted the crew at work immensely as she would bring the treats she produced in the next day) or because she was attempting some manner of bribery.

Klaus is leaning towards the latter in this instance.

He's almost positive she's making the currant spice cookies he was fond of. They were currently on a break from shooting and Caroline had already completed the bulk of her holiday to do list. There's not much she _could_ be stressed about.

Begging the question, whatever could she possibly _want_?

When Klaus makes his way to the kitchen, after stowing his coat, he's greeted by a bright smile, "Hey! You're home early."

She's got a towel wrapped around her hair, wears a robe and he's intrigued by the bit of black ribbon he spies on the strap that's peeking out. Klaus can't wait to get a closer look. Unfortunately, it's possible he'll have to wait. They have a charity engagement tonight, something for a children's hospital Caroline often works with. He'd been half asleep when she'd asked him if he'd go, worn out from a night shoot and happy to _finally_ be his in bed with Caroline wrapped around him.

He recalls agreeing right before drifting off and it had been on the calendar the next day – both the paper one Caroline kept posted in the kitchen and on the app they had on their phones – and Klaus had thought little of it since.

Exactly what time had it started again?

He's wondering if he has enough time to peel Caroline out of that robe and coax her into joining him in the shower (despite the fact she's already finished hers) when she speaks and (unfortunately) forces him from that delightful train of thought, "Did your shopping go well?" She bats her eyelashes innocently and Klaus can't help but smile.

Caroline wasn't a big fan of surprises, had been dropping _completely_ unsubtle hints about what sort of gifts she wanted for months. Klaus had purchased several of her suggestions, along with some others and had then done some hinting of his own regarding the surprise items.

She pretended like it didn't bother her but Klaus had noted some definite disturbances to the things in his portion of their walk in closet, _almost_ like _someone_ had been snooping. Caroline had, of course, denied having any knowledge of such a thing over breakfast that morning ("I'm not a _child_, Klaus. I have _some_ self-control," she'd sniffed while pointedly ignoring his gaze.

Klaus had anticipated such things, this being the second Christmas he and Caroline have been together, third including the one where they'd just begun their tentative friendship. He knew Caroline's quirks well and so he'd arranged to store all of his packages at Marcel's place, had dropped off the final few not twenty minutes ago.

She can snoop to her little heart's content and won't find so much as a hint.

"Shopping was fine," he tells her breezily. "I do believe my list is complete."

Caroline's eyes narrow and Klaus _knows_ she wants to press but she restrains herself, turning her attention back to the cookies she's setting on a cooling rack with a barely audible huff.

He circles the island and wraps his arm around Caroline's waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he snags a cookie. She settles back against him with a hum, but wrinkles her nose when he offers her the first bite, "Nope, just brushed my teeth." She lifts on to her toes pecks his cheek, "You should probably start getting ready soon. I left the outfit I need you to wear on the bed."

Klaus raises a brow at that. For events where they knew they'd be photographed they usually coordinated (or their stylists did) to make sure his tie didn't clash with her dress and that sort of thing but that was the extent of Caroline's attempts to influence his clothes. "Is this a costume party?" he asks slowly, trying to remember the conversation they had.

Fruitlessly because it remains a blur. He remembers Caroline speaking softly, the warm hand she'd slipped under his shirt to trace patterns over his ribs. Nothing of the content of her words comes to him, however.

He can't see her face but she shifts her weight slightly, a telltale sign of nerves. "Not exactly."

Ah. So he'd been correct to be suspicious.

"Caroline," he drawls, setting his uneaten cookie down and shifting so he can look at her.

She attempts to maintain her innocent expression but caves quickly under his expectant gaze, throwing up her hands and pulling away from him. She leans against the opposite counter and points at him. "I did _ask_ you about this. And you agreed. It's not my fault you forgot about it."

"Yes," Klaus says dryly, "And I'm sure the timing was _completely_ coincidental. There's no chance that you plotted to use your wiles on me at a weak moment to get me to agree to something I might not have otherwise, is there?"

Caroline looks mildly embarrassed, "There might be a _tiny_ chance that I plotted. A little. But it's for charity and I'm wearing a costume too!"

"And what's your costume, love?"

She glances down at her feet, "Mrs. Claus," she mutters.

"Which would make me…?"

She peeks up, biting her lip for a moment. "Santa," she finally admits with a sigh.

He should have known.

"Absolutely not," Klaus states immediately. "Marcel would _never_ let me forget it. And I shudder to think of the unholy glee Kol would get out of the news. He has the ridiculous habit of purposefully mispronouncing my name for the whole of December as it is."

Something Caroline was endlessly amused with, weathering Klaus' glowers every time she let a giggle slip out. _That_ that only managed to encourage Kol's ridiculous antics. "Marcel won't be there. Kol's not even on this continent so they might not ever know."

"I don't like the word _might_."

She rolls her eyes, "How about probably?"

"Slightly better," Klaus allows. "There won't be press there?"

"Not when we visit the kids," she assures him and he's sure she's mentally rehearsed her speech to convince him. "You'll hand out toys, strain your acting abilities and pretend like you're the cheerful type. Afterwards we have a champagne and cheese thing with other donors where we'll have to mingle. There will be pictures then but you can totally be _you_ then. Just pick one of your suits and bring it along. We'll change there."

He can't _believe_ he's considering this. Caroline knows it too, her cajoling expression melting away into a smile of triumph.

Well, he can't make it _that_ simple for her, can he? It'll set an awful precedent and the slow creep of her things into his half of the closet will accelerate and she'll win the fight about the guest bath and paint it that awful pink she's taken a liking to.

"What's in it for me?" Klaus asks shrewdly.

Her eyes light up immediately and something tells Klaus that she's _also_ prepared for such an eventuality.

Caroline's expression turns sultry as she reaches behind her. She sets her hands on the countertop and hops until she's seated on it before lifting a hand and beckoning him forward. Klaus finds himself moving without taking the time to consider it and Caroline's hands grasp his shirt, her thighs parting until her rests between them. Her robe's slipped down one shoulder and she pushes it further, revealing an exceptionally lovely little bit of lingerie that he's certain is new.

The bra is sheer and plunging, a delicate floral pattern running over the cups that does little to hide the pink of her nipple. Klaus lips his lips, and meets her teasing gaze, "I'm listening."

Caroline laughs, soft and throaty, reaching down to tangle his hand in hers. She draws their joined hands slowly up her legs, "There's a garter. Stockings too. I know you like those."

He really does.

Her voice gets a little breathy as his fingers take over, brushing over the lace that the covers the juncture of her thighs. "_And_ it's a thong. Because I figured it'd be easier to push aside when you bend me over the conference room table at the hospital while we're supposed to be changing for that fancy cocktail party."

His groan is hoarse and Caroline smiles up at him impishly before drawing his hands out from under her robe and scooting back a bit. She nudges his leg with her toes, "Yeah, I figured that would be sufficiently motivating," she says smugly. "I casually asked some questions about cameras while I was getting the details for this thing down, implied I was super concerned about my privacy and was assured that there's none in the conference room that will be at our disposal this evening."

Perhaps he's easy but Klaus is convinced.

He leans into kiss her and Caroline eagerly parts her lips, inviting him in though she places a firm hand on his chest. "We don't have time for anything all that good," she tells him regretfully when she pulls back, lips swollen and wet. "But later. _Definitely_ later."

"Several times over," Klaus vows, low and rough. The shiver that wracks Caroline's frame is most rewarding and Klaus is glad he won't be the only one distracted by less than pure thoughts this evening.

She attempts sternness, shoving him gently in the direction of the doorway. "Go, shower. I'll put the cookies away and be up in a minute to do my makeup."

Reluctantly Klaus pulls away and turns to head upstairs, Caroline's soft humming following him. He can't help the grimace of distaste he makes when he sees the lurid red outfit laid across the foot of the bed.

Red velvet and white fur, shiny black belt and boots. There was even extra padding that he knows is going to be awkward and uncomfortable. He reaches out a tentative hand to the beard that's included, quickly withdraws it upon feeling it against his skin.

That was going to itch something awful and Klaus only _wished_ that he could curse Caroline's deviousness.

He can't not when it's such a part of what makes her who she is.

Klaus quite liked that she wasn't afraid to go after what she wanted. Knew that her single mindedness when in pursuit of a goal could be a beautiful thing. Loved that she was unapologetic about her cleverness and kept him on his toes.

Still. He'd definitely be doing some _plotting _of his own once this night was through and Caroline had followed through with the incentives she'd offered.

Klaus was certain they'd _both_ enjoy whatever revenge he settled on.


	78. By Accident Or Design

**Notes: **Yep, more sex pollen. This one popped into my inbox shortly after I posted the Regency one and I was helpless to resist it. I haven't had a whole lot of writing time lately but that should hopefully change soon! Thanks to everyone reading and commenting!

**By Accident Or Design**

**(Prompt: hi, could you do a Hogwarts AU + sex pollen. SMUT)**

Caroline stirs unwillingly when she feels a warm hand on her arm, a quiet groan spilling from her lips in complaint, "Mm, no," she slurs, "Five more minutes."

The soft laugh that follows _is_ familiar though it's only recently she's begun to hear it. She'd been a little startled, and very pleased with herself, the first time she managed to make Klaus laugh genuinely, with something other than derision.

Six months ago she'd first been introduced to Klaus Mikaelson. Summoned to his office she'd been informed by her boss that Klaus was the newest hire, and that since Caroline was between projects it would be her responsibility to get him acclimated and bring him up to speed on the potions they were currently working on. Caroline hadn't really minded, always willing to go the extra mile.

Until they got to the part where Klaus would be moving into the empty half of _her_ lab.

Caroline had been enjoying the previous month of blissful solitude, no one touching her stuff or interrupting her when she was thinking and she'd mourned the end of it. Her previous lab mate, a creep named Damon Salvatore, had been fired for spending too much time on his personal projects – attempting to improve the hangover cures readily available – and not enough on those he'd been assigned.

Caroline had suspected, and rumors had persisted, that he was also abusing the shared ingredients cupboards and brewing glamor potions that hid his late nights and bad habits. Damon always reeked of muggle mouthwash and cologne, the chemical scents fooling no one.

That morning she'd said a silent _fervent_ prayer that Klaus would be less of a hassle, pasted on a smile, and offered him her hand.

Handshakes, Caroline's father had always said, could tell you all sorts of things about a person. Somehow she didn't think that the not so pure images that had immediately flitted through her mind once she'd noted Klaus' long fingers and warm palms, had been what he'd meant at the time.

A momentary lapse that Caroline had quickly shoved to the back of her mind.

Klaus had been watchful, spoke few words but listened intently, as she'd introduced herself and led him to the rooms they'd be sharing. He'd been polite enough, answered her questions about where he was from (the accent was a dead giveaway that he'd come a long way, along with the suit. Caroline kept things business casual but some of her coworkers put in _far_ less effort).

Her finely honed douchebag detector hadn't tingled and she'd been reasonably sure that the transition back to sharing a lab wouldn't be _too_ terrible.

Until they'd actually gotten to work.

Initially things had been… challenging. Caroline liked order, firmly believed that everything had a place. Klaus' style was somewhat more freeform. Fights had been numerous, loud and heated. He liked the wizarding wireless, she preferred to plug her phone into the speakers she'd charmed. Klaus' workspace was chaotic (though _he_ seemed to have little trouble navigating it) while Caroline's was spotless and had been liberally attacked it with a label maker.

It wasn't just their personal habits that clashed. They disagreed about techniques, Klaus favored more traditional potion making, his pureblood upbringing, Hogwarts education, and apprenticeship more strict than and regimented than hers had been. Caroline had always been encouraged to experiment, test out substitutions, something that Klaus was only now slowly coming around to since it was kind of required in his current job description.

Their small potions company prided itself on innovation, making existing potions more cost efficient and effective and inventing new formulas to cover gaps in the wizarding worlds needs.

She could admit that he was actually _good_ at it, intuitive and creative, that he got great results. She'd probably even say it to his face these days, now that they'd almost become friends.

_That_ had taken some time.

They'd mostly operated in polite silence for the two months of Klaus' employment, save for the frequent bouts of bickering. At one point she'd drawn a shimmery pink line splitting the room, including the battered couch along one wall and the refrigerator where they kept personal items, into two equal halves.

Klaus hadn't been amused by the brief jolt of pain he'd felt when he'd attempted to cross it. It was petty of her, Caroline could admit, but she'd have done worse if his stack of parchments slid over onto her things _one_ more time.

Like strangle him with her bare hands.

She'd half expected that Klaus had reported her when they'd both been called into their supervisor's office. At the time she almost would have preferred a reprimand to the news that she and Klaus were being given a _joint_ assignment.

She'd wracked her brain for a way to get out of it, thinking there was no possible way they could succeed. She and Klaus could _barely_ coexist. Working together seemed like a recipe for disaster and/or mayhem.

Luckily, she'd been wrong.

Nearly four months later Caroline looked back on that project fondly. Once they'd managed to stop sniping at one another and cooperate (which, admittedly, had taken longer than it probably _should_ have) they'd managed to work well together and the atmosphere in their shared lab had thawed considerably.

They even worked out a system and turns picking the music.

Klaus shakes her again gently and confusion fights through Caroline's drowsiness, "I believe you'll need a bit more than five minutes. You can't have gotten much rest."

She pries her eyes open with a great deal of difficulty and eyes him blearily, "Klaus? Why're you in my bedroom?"

Another low sound of amusement as he crouches so they're at eye level. "I'm not," he tells her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "_You're_ at your desk. You fell asleep. Luckily your potion didn't blow up though I'm certain it'll be unusable. It's nearly solid in your cauldron."

This time her groan is pure frustration and she knocks her forehead against her worktable. "Ugh, I was _sure_ that I was on to something."

Klaus stands again, "And I'm sure your meticulous notes will allow you to replicate it later." His tone firms, "_After_ you've gotten a few _proper_ hours of sleep."

Caroline shakes her head, pushing herself to her feet as her mental to do list begins to swirl past her eyes, "I can't. My deadline's next week and I'll have to do the write up after and…"

Klaus steps in front of her, blocking her from her prep table, and Caroline shoots him a glare that has him holding up his hands innocently. Still, he doesn't relent. "You have time, Caroline."

"But what if _this_ one doesn't work and I need to make _more_ adjustments?" she counters, reaching up to rub her eyes. She clenches her jaw shut tight to disguise a yawn. "I'll make some coffee. We've got Pepper Up in the bathroom. It'll be fine."

Klaus isn't convinced. "You'll be more likely to make mistakes if you're exhausted, won't you? A bit of sleep might prevent a setback that'll be more time consuming."

She wavers because he might have a point, damn him. She steps around him, walking over to peek in her cauldron, wincing when she sees the chalky brown sludge it contains. That was _not_ what she'd been going for. Klaus, likely sensing her weakness, presses harder, "You don't even have to go home. An hour or two on the couch, love. I'll be as quiet as possible."

The couch _was_ deceptively comfortable. She'd taken many excellent naps on it. Caroline sighs, reaching for her wand, "Two hours. Don't let me sleep a minute more, okay?"

"I promise," Klaus says, rocking a step back. He's doing an awful job of hiding his pleased expression but she decides to let it go. Considering he _was_ attempting to look out for her and all. "Sleep well, Caroline."

She manages a smile and drags her feet on her way to the couch. Her eyes had begun drooping as soon as she'd given in, her limbs heavy as she flops onto the couch. She manages the charm to darken the area immediately around her before curling into a ball and letting herself drift off to the faint and familiar sounds of Klaus moving around the room.

She's jolted out of sleep by a high pitched alarm. Caroline snatches up her wand and throws herself into a sitting position, glancing around wildly. Klaus is cursing, harsh and rapid as he points his wand at the flame under his cauldron, attempting to get it under control. The cauldron shaking on its perch, smoking ominously. She lurches to her feet, wracking her brain trying to remember just what Klaus was working on, how dangerous it might be and how she could help.

She's about to ask if they should leave before the wards seal them in, throw up some extra shields and let it burn itself out but she's too late, several loud pops emerge from the cauldron before a thin purple liquid splashes over the rim, dousing Klaus' front. A few drops land on her arm, stinging her skin. Klaus yelps in pain and Caroline rushes to his side, shaking her arm until the burning fades. She summons their emergency kit, "Take off your shirt," she orders. "What was in the potion?"

He starts, turning to look at her, "_Don't_ touch it, Caroline," he snaps.

"What am I, an idiot?" she bites back, fishing a pair of gloves out of the kit. "I am fully aware of basic potion safety, thank you. But it's too late." She lifts her arm, nods down to the purple streaks and reddened skin. "You took the brunt of it so we'll deal with me after. Now, shirt off."

"Shit," Klaus mutters, making no attempt to do as she'd asked, his eyes wide with something that resembles panic. Caroline tries to fight down her own answering alarm.

Freaking out right now was _not_ going to help them.

She snaps the gloves on reasoning there's no need to get _more_ contaminated and reaches to peel Klaus' shirt off herself. She glares until he lifts his arms and she pulls it clear, rushing over and shoving it in their hazardous waste bin. She returns, mutters a brief apology before she drenches him with an Aguamenti spell, turning her wand on her own arm once she's satisfied that Klaus has been rinsed sufficiently.

"Now, what were you working on?" she prods briskly. "What are we looking at in terms of an antidote? Can we brew one quickly?"

Klaus is silent for a long moment, his expression twisted into something that's almost like… embarrassment.

Not an emotion she'd ever seen him display.

He mumbles something, breaking her gaze and focusing on drying his jeans. "What was that?" Caroline asks.

He sighs, "The Arousal Elixir."

It clicks, "Right! You're trying to decrease the waiting time for it to kick in and figure out what's causing that weird yellow rash some people have gotten." He'd only been given the assignment the week before and hadn't run into any major snags so they'd only discussed it briefly. "You decided to tackle the waiting time first…"

"Because it seemed to merely be a matter of dicing certain ingredients smaller."

"Which means…?"

"That if my calculations are correct I've gotten it down to fifteen minutes."

Klaus' calculations usually were.

"And _after_ fifteen minutes we'll be feeling…" he trails off meaningfully and Caroline's jaw drops.

Because while she'd never tried The Arousal Elixir herself – it was relatively new and it's ingredients prohibitively expensive - she'd read all about it in the journals she subscribes to. It had been marketed as something to put the spice back into a marriage and Caroline assumed its primary consumers were older couples with an abundance of money.

"Aroused," she stutters out, wincing at how stupid that probably sounds. "So we should probably floo home real quick so we can… you know."

Klaus shakes his head. "We can't. The exits sealed when the alarm rang."

Right. The wards. Caroline's never hated the safety protocols more.

They have very limited options and she quickly realizes that there's no way to go at the issue delicately. Time was a ticking, after all. Caroline lifts her chin, _hates_ that she's blushing. She and Klaus are both adults so they're just going to have to make the best of this. And try not to let it get awkward afterwards. She waits until he looks at her and flashes her brightest pageant smile, "So, do you want the bathroom or the couch?"

She paces for several moments after the bathroom door has shut, running her hands through her hair until she's sure that her curls are a poufy mess. This is so not how she'd anticipated her day going. Caroline manages three circuits of the room before she begins to feel the potions effects. She's been going through an unfortunate dry spell lately, has mostly been taking care of her own needs. Still, the signs are familiar.

She fights the hitch in her breathing, picking up the pace as she strips off her cardigan and fans herself. She can feel her nipples tightening, bites her lip to hold in a moan as a slow throbbing begins low in her belly.

Damn that stuff was _potent_. No wonder people shelled out serious cash.

Caroline eyes the door Klaus had disappeared behind as she makes her way to the couch. Klaus had been surprisingly gentlemanly, had offered to take the tiny, cramped bathroom, explaining that it was only fair since it had been his over stirring that had caused the issue with the potion in the first place.

Something she'd usually have teased him about (it wasn't like him to get distracted) but she hadn't been able to form any sort of joke, too focused on the fact that he'd _still_ been shirtless. And slightly damp.

The view had been _very_ nice.

The angles of his shoulders, the lean muscles of his torso and the indents of his hips, had been even better than anything Caroline's brain had conjured during her not infrequent fantasies about Klaus. She'd wanted to reach out and _stroke_, to see if Klaus would twitch under her fingertips, if she could coax noises of pleasure and need from him.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to blurt out that maybe they should tackle this… _problem_ as a team but she hadn't been able to force the words out. What if he'd said _no_? That would have gone down in the history books as Caroline's most embarrassing moment _ever_ and she'd had some doozies as a teenager. She'd have had to quit her job and avoid him for the rest of her _life_.

Still, the idea lingered.

Maybe there was something more… subtle she could try. A way to test the waters a little before diving straight in.

Caroline rolls her wand between her fingertips contemplatively. She _should_ put up a silencing spell, thrown on some music, and go on with her business, leave Klaus to do his until the potion had run its course.

But what if she _doesn't_?

Her body practically hums as the idea sinks in and she lets herself flop onto the couch, pressing her thighs together as the ache between them grows more insistent.

He was a smart guy. Caroline assumed he'd understand what it meant when she said his 'Klaus' as she came.

When she hears the door open Caroline wants to grin in triumph but she's too busy sucking in deep gulps of air. Klaus hadn't been trying to be sneaky and, from the sound, she imagines one of them will have to repair a hole he's made in the wall with his forceful entrance.

She glances over at him, finds him gripping the frame and watching her hungrily, skin flushed and eyes bright with need. She's made herself comfortable, is spread out along the length of the couch with her head pillowed on the arm rest. She knows she must look thoroughly debauched, clothes askew and legs spread, two fingers pumping in and out of her body as she works herself up to a third peak. "Finally," she breathes, sinking back into the cushions.

She'd been a little timid at first, hadn't managed to get much volume. Her first climax hadn't been particularly… relieving and her body's needs had only grown more insistent. When she'd come the second time she'd practically screamed his name.

It was a clear invitation. Why, she wonders, is Klaus still standing all the way over there? _And_ still wearing his pants?

Caroline blows her hair out of her face, pushing herself up on one elbow, not slowing the motions of the hand between her legs. "What?" she manages, voice hoarse, "do you need a written invitation?"

That does the trick. He pushes away from the bathroom, makes his way towards her in quick jerky steps. "Lose the pants," she demands.

"Lose your dress," Klaus counters thickly.

Fair enough, Caroline decides, even though it hadn't been covering much, pushed to her waist as it was.

She moans a little as she sits up, pouting at the pang of discomfort that hits her once she stops touching herself. As quickly as she can Caroline shimmies her dress over her head and tosses it aside. Her bra's been shoved askew by her wandering hands but she unclips the back and slides it off her shoulders for good measure. She's unable to resist the temptation to tease him, and herself, palming a breast and worrying her nipple with her thumb. Her lips part on a gasp as she lies back down, drawing her knees up and parting her thighs under Klaus' avid gaze.

His eyes dip, throat bobbing at the harsh swallow he makes as he sees just how wet she is. There's no room for embarrassment, not as turned on as she is, as turned on as she can _see_ Klaus is. He fumbles for the button on his jeans, easing the zipper down gently. Caroline reaches for him as he steps out of them but he thwarts her, gripping her wrists as he settles himself over her, skin fever hot as it slides against hers. She arches up, rubbing the aching points of her nipples against the firm wall of his chest and rocking her hips in an attempt to gain some friction against her clit. Klaus holds himself just above her, the line of his body rigid and a groan bitten off as he presses his face into his throat.

"Klaus," she whines, shifting restlessly, "I want…"

His huff of a laugh sounds pained, "I know. I _want_ too, Caroline."

She makes an impatient noise, winding a leg around his back and attempting to pull him down, only managing to drag her dripping folds over the taut line of his abdomen, letting out a soft hiss at the sensation.

It's not nearly enough.

Klaus bites down on her shoulder, a warning, and her grip on him tightens, arms straining against his hold on her wrists. "If we do this," he rasps, "I want a chance to do it again. _Properly_."

"What, like in a bed?" Caroline asks. "If you want we'll transfigure the couch once we've taken the edge off. I'm sure a couple of orgasms will allow us to focus enough."

He levers up to look at her, his jaw clenched tight. "_Not_ what I meant."

She rolls her hips again, biting her lips to stifle a whimper. The ache is beginning to _hurt_ and Klaus features soften, more of his weight resting against her. His cock lies heavily against her thigh, thick and hard, and she marvels at his control. Considers all the fun she could have testing it. "Dinner," he grits out. "That sort of proper. Where you wear a fetching little dress and I bring flowers and I kiss you goodnight but we can't quite bring ourselves to stop at just a kiss and you drag me into your flat and have your wicked way with me in your front hall."

Caroline still in surprise and she blinks up at him, her heart beginning to pound anew. "I… think I'd like that."

He grins, and there's something feral in it that appeals and her breath catches. "Excellent," Klaus murmurs. "I will, of course, have _my_ wicked way with _you_ afterwards. Would you care for a preview?"

She's barely had time to process before Klaus is slithering down her body, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. Her hands, now free, wind into his hair, tightening when she feels his fingers stroking along her slit. He finds her clit with his thumb, stroking side to side as he kisses her ribs. "Klaus, you don't have to…"

He shushes her, "I _want_ to."

"Don't you need…" she tries, because he must be feeling the effects of the potion too, the tightening pressure that edges towards pain when arousal builds and builds with no release.

Klaus nips at her hipbone, soothes the sting with his tongue, "Don't worry about me."

He pulls her up as he slips off the couch, kneeling at her feet with his hand wrapped around his cock.

God, that was so not fair.

She squirms as he she watches him stroke himself, easy glides as he uses his free hand to push her legs farther apart. She slumps down on the couch willingly, resting on the very edge, open to his gaze. "I came three times listening to you touch yourself, love. I do believe I owe you one."

He doesn't give her a chance to argue (not that she _would_ have) leaning down and flicking his tongue against her clit. She jolts, toes curling, reaching up behind her and gripping the upholstery to avoid the urge to reach down and pull him more tightly against her.

Not that Klaus needs the encouragement.

He starts slow, testing the pressure and speed she likes best on her clit, slipping two fingers inside of her once he's figured out what makes her thighs shake and needy noises spill from her lips. She's sure her nails are going to rip into the couch but she only grips tighter as the feelings build, her muscles pulled tight as she grinds against his mouth. Klaus crooks his fingers, sucks hard, and she's flying, muscles going lax as she cries out.

She feels him pant against her thigh, his fingers thrusting lazily as he works her through her climax.

Caroline wants more. And not just because of the potion. She wants his skin against hers, his moans muffled against her shoulder, to hear him call her name as he shakes against her.

She reaches down and threads her fingers through Klaus' hair, tugging until he looks up at her. She straightens, limbs still the slightest bit shaky with the pleasure thrumming through them. "We're definitely even. Wanna get _more_ even?"

Klaus' nod is enthusiastic and he rears up cupping her face and slanting his mouth over hers as he tumbles her onto her back once more. She smiles into the kiss and runs her hands down his back, shaping the muscles that she finds, makes a mental note to do the same with her lips later. She moans a little as she tastes herself on his tongue, shivers when she feels his hand between them, brushing once more over her entrance. He's less than steady, when he pulls back, his lips pressed into a tight line. Still, he doesn't push into her. Caroline groans in exasperation, "I'm into the foreplay, don't get me wrong. But I _need_ you, Klaus."

He shakes his head, looking pained, "Do we need…?"

"Contraceptive potion," she assures him, tilting her hips as he lines himself up.

"Thank god," he mutters, "I've no idea where my wand went."

Her reply catches in her throat, a long moan coming out instead as he sinks into the heat of her, the stretch so beyond _perfect _that Caroline wonders if they'll ever even make it to dinner now that she knows what _this_ feels like.

She's totally yanking him into her apartment and having her way with him when he picks her up. Forget that end of date first kiss nonsense. They could order in when they needed sustenance.

He stills once he's buried inside of her, hips pressed tight to hers and Caroline shakes her head, bucking underneath him and urging him to move. "Slow later," she demands, quiet and forceful, body rolling restlessly, "just fuck me."

A rough sound of approval rumbles out of Klaus and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, snapping his hips into hers as his free hand covers her breast and pinches her nipple. Caroline lets out a cry, digging her nails into his shoulders and arching her back in a plea for _more_.

They chase their highs greedily, skin slipping and hands wandering. Caroline's head digs into the couch when he finds the perfect angle, breathless pleas tumbling from her. He loses his rhythm when she's almost there, grunting out a curse into her skin. "It's okay," she gasps, feeling him tense. She works her hand in between them, circles her clit with frantic fingertips until her body jerks against the weight of his, waves of bliss washing over her as he shudders and comes with a low groan of contentment.

Klaus slips to the side once he's done shuddering and Caroline throws a leg over his hip, wincing as he glides out of her. He's still mostly hard and she's sure she'll be more than ready to go in a few moments.

She probably would be even if they weren't currently under the influence of a performance enhancing potion. She rests her forehead on his chest, listening to the rapid pounding of their heartbeats as she waits for her breathing to slow. "I think we're going to need a new couch. Something less scratchy."

Klaus laughs, smoothing a hand through her hair, "Most likely. I think we should lie on the requisition form. Maybe break a leg off this one to shore up our story about why it's faulty."

Caroline nods in agreement, "We'll blame the potion. Say it was ruined beyond repair."

"I vote we angle for something roomier," Klaus says. "Just in case we both need to use it."

Caroline smirks, rolling her head back to meet his eyes as Klaus' hand drifts down her back. "For naps, right?"

Klaus returns her mischievous expression with one of his own, maneuvering them so she's firmly on top of him, legs spread over his hips, his cock pressed against her ass. He folds his arms behind his head as she sits up. "If that's what'll help you lie on the form, love, sure."

Caroline's pretty sure that neither of them is ever going to manage a nap in this room again. _Unless_ they've mutually exhausted each other doing very unprofessional things.

_After_ all actual work was done, of course. Caroline could think of no greater incentive.


	79. Everywhere With You

**Notes: **Another drabble, set in early S5 and ignoring TO. I hope you all enjoy!

**Everywhere With You**

**(Prompt: Klaroline as mates and Caroline questioning Klaus' sanity and/or thinking he was knocked on the head one too many times in the last thousand years for this to even be a possibility. Title from "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Rated T.)**

She stumbles, it's deliberate and maybe _too_ theatrical. Caroline wind mills her arms and totters like the heel's she's wearing are going to be her downfall. They're not – she'd spent much of her early teens prepping for Miss Mystic walking the stairs of her house in a cheap pair of pumps from Payless (getting her mom to buy them had been an _ordeal_) with a book on her head – but the creep who's following her has no way of knowing that.

Caroline lets herself crash into a light pole, makes a show of catching her balance, and throws her head back with a laugh that's boisterous and supposed to sound slightly drunk. She closes her eyes and focuses her hearing waiting for whoever's been on her tail to make a freaking move already.

She'd felt that prickling sensation, unseen eyes that she knew were there, as soon as she'd left the library and Caroline's mood had immediately taken a dip. She exists in various states of annoyance these days and being stalked wasn't helpful. She takes the path around the back of the buildings because it's always deserted this time of night and she hasn't been much for company lately. And now some weirdo had to ruin what could have been a perfectly lovely evening stroll.

Talk about rude.

She usually sticks to blood bags, because that's what _good_ vampires do, but tonight she's willing to make an exception. If some creep's going to pick her as an easy mark Caroline's going to make sure he regrets it.

The fresh blood is just a welcome bonus of the lesson.

She holds her breath, her hair spilling down in messy waves to cover the red of her eyes and the fangs she's let out in anticipation. She'd been _sure_ someone had been watching her, that the rustling of leaves in the trees that line this pathway back to her dorm room had been caused by something other than animals or the wind.

But nothing moves, no one ambles out of the woods or speeds up the path behind her.

Ugh. Maybe her tendency to be dramatic was coming back to kick her in the ass she _was_ imagining things.

After all it's been a weird couple of weeks.

The transition to college life hadn't been as smooth as Caroline had always expected. She'd been so excited at graduation, ready to have a kickass summer and then tackle college. She'd convinced her mom to take a quick trip to the cabin with her and they'd had a great time talking and watching movies and lounging on the docks. She'd first started to feel jittery then, almost like she'd forgotten something important, had wracked her brains for what it could possibly be.

Over and over again, even when she'd known it was silly and futile.

When they'd returned home she'd scrubbed the house from top to bottom, organized and rearranged until her back ached (no small feat given her vampire status) hoping to put the feeling to rest. It was a hollowness, a thick cloud of boredom with no desire to _do_ anything about it and the certainty that anything she tried would fail. It was foreign to her and she loathed it.

Nothing had helped and her bad temper had continued to grow. She'd mostly managed to keep a lid on it, her mom's odd hours helping. Caroline could manage a sunny smile and genial chatter for the hour or so they spent together at dinner, their quick chats over coffee in the morning. Still, her performances hadn't been entirely convincing. She'd caught the worried looks her mother was shooting her, had to brush off and redirect concerned questions.

Caroline had started taking long walks, plodding through the woods that surrounded Mystic Falls trying to figure out what was wrong with her, why she couldn't seem to shake her moodiness.

She'd tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was lonely. Bonnie was gone for the summer, Tyler's return date unknown as he seemed reluctant to leave the pack he'd befriended. Elena was too wrapped up in her weird Damon _thing_ to have much time for her. Caroline had tried to get a jump on her classes, purchased her textbooks (required _and_ supplemental) but when it came time to sit down and read them her brain just wouldn't cooperate.

She was constantly restless, could barely get four hours of sleep in a night, consumed extra portions of blood and binged on Cheetos to compensate.

She'd desperately hoped that things would get better once she was settled at Whitmore and sharing a dorm with Bonnie and Elena just like she'd always planned. She'd made a point to dive into extra-curricular activities, hoping that being busy was what she'd need to feel normal again.

Her planner was packed and she was kicking ass at her classes (through the sheer force of her stubbornness) but Caroline's beginning to think that she might have to accept that she has no idea what normal is anymore.

Six weeks into her semester she's forced to admit that all the clubs she'd joined and committees she was a part of hadn't helped. She wasn't _quite_ the space case that she'd been back in Mystic Falls. Instead of the sense of _wrongness_ being overwhelming she could usually stuff it into the back of her mind, enough to function anyway. She could get through a lecture, was on top of her homework. But her sleep schedule was still a mess and she had made zero new friends. Plus, Caroline's old ones weren't big fans of her either at the moment.

Cohabitating was bound to be thorny and her fuse being extra short didn't make it any easier.

The feeling that something was off was like an itch now, instead of a pain. It remained a constant nagging irritant that she just couldn't figure out how to fix.

Maybe she was just looking for another outlet and she'd imagined the eyes she's been feeling on her all evening.

God, she was acting like a paranoid nutjob.

Caroline groans aloud, taking a calming breath and forcing her fangs away. She sits and flops back onto the grass (she's in no hurry to get back to her room, she's been snappy and extra cutting with Bonnie and Elena lately and they're really not having it anymore, not that Caroline blames them). She's tempted to scream but settles for kicking her heels into the ground for a moment, shaking her head and clenching her fists.

She's too old for tantrums but it's not like anyone else will ever know.

After a moment she relaxes with a sigh, scrubbing her hand over her face in frustration. "Maybe I've been cursed or something," she mutters. "I'll get Bonnie to check. _If_ she's still talking to me." A noise from the treeline breaks into her self-pity party and Caroline tenses, rolling over and digging her hands into the ground in case she needs to spring.

She expects a smarmy frat boy, swaggering over with his hands up like he's not a threat (which he wouldn't be, but still) even as his eyes rake her over with poorly concealed lust.

What Caroline does _not_ expect is a giant freaking wolf.

The wolf's golden in color, thickly furred and powerfully built, she notes with growing alarm. It keeps its head is down, its pace sedate, no hint of teeth or aggression visible as it pads in her direction. "What in the…"

She's just gathering herself to run when its head lifts, as if it had understood her words, meeting her gaze directly. Caroline deflates, because the tiny bit of hope she'd had that it was _just_ a wolf (its size made it unlikely but a girl could dream) – and therefore something that she could outrun – is dashed.

Of course it was a werewolf. Just her luck.

Good thing she'd never deleted Klaus' number. She'd considered it often over the summer, his words, the _weight_ of them, ringing in her mind. Her last love was a long ways off and she had a long list of things to achieve before it was something she could even begin to consider.

She'd stared at it in the darkness of her bedroom, during those nights where sleep just wouldn't come, thumb hovering over the screen and unable to make the final tap that would erase _him_, put him out of her reach. At the time she'd been annoyed at herself, at the tiny voice that insisted she didn't _want_ to make it impossible to contact him.

Turns out that tiny voice totally had her back because it was entirely possible she was going to get chomped on tonight.

Again.

Caroline gets to her knees, holds her palms up and speaks soothingly, "Nice, wolfy. Good boy. I know we're like, mortal enemies or whatever, but I'm really not that tasty. Promise. The amount of artificial colors and flavors I've been ingesting lately is really going to screw up your digestion. Trust me."

It snorts, almost like it's amused, but doesn't halt its approach.

She stills when it gets close, breath coming out in an alarmed huff as its snout nudges at her hip. She swallows back a yelp when she sees its jaws open – because those teeth were no joke – but the wolf merely bites down on the hem of her denim jacket, tugging firmly in the direction of the woods.

Caroline swallows, and tries to sound confident, "Uh, no offense but I'm going to have to pass. I'd rather my body be found, you know? So I can have a nice funeral even if the casket will have to be closed."

It lets out another noise, this one impatient, dropping her jacket and licking her wrist. "Ew," she squeals, pulling away. "Slobber, much?"

The wolf's clamped down on her jacket again and this time it's less of a tug and more of a drag. She debates ditching it and making a run for her dorm but that seems like it'll only piss off the werewolf – not something she wants to do. Running through her options Caroline realizes she _might_ have an advantage in the woods, she knows the trails (running has been one of her attempts to cope with her never-ending ennui) and if she could just get up a tree she'd be able to call for backup.

"Okay, okay," Caroline relents and climbs to her feet. Her jacket's released and the wolf circles behind her, cold nose nudging the back of her knee. She turns and gives it her best unimpressed look, not that it garners much of a reaction, and starts walking towards the trees. "Kidnapped again. Not awesome," she grumbles. Though she has to admit that this might be her most pleasant kidnapping yet. No injuries thus far and the werewolf hasn't even growled at her.

She tries to speed up but the wolf stays on her heels. Caroline's never been herded before but she can safely say she's _not_ a fan. She recognizes the path he directs her to, knows it's one of the ones that leads to the backroad on the other side of the forest. She's taken aback, having anticipated he'd force her deeper into the woods and not towards civilization. The trees are spindlier in this direction too, unfortunately, nothing that she could scale high enough to get away from snapping teeth and claws.

Shit. She is so screwed.

She tries to stay calm, ignores the more rapid beating of her heart, knowing her best shot is to _think_. Caroline reaches into her pocket, grips her phone tightly. Maybe she'll get lucky and there will be a car she can flag down on the road. The wolf bounds ahead of her at the edge of the forest making a beeline for the large black SUV that's parked on the shoulder.

She should make a run for it but her feet won't cooperate, random pieces of information clicking rapidly into place.

She _knows_ that SUV.

She hears a sharp crack before she can say anything, followed by the crunch and squish of bone and cartilage and sinew shifting. She takes the few paces forward so she can see the transformation, just to confirm what she's begun to expect.

His transition is quicker than she'd expected, more quiet too, only a few harsh exhalations as Klaus shifts into the form she recognizes.

Well, mostly. She'd never seen him totally _naked_ before.

Except for those dreams that she pretends she doesn't have.

Her eyes drift down his back before she can think of why she shouldn't let them, lingering on the lean muscles now bare to her gaze. She finds herself noting the parts of his anatomy she'd not had the chance to peruse that long afternoon where he'd been trapped in Silas' mind game.

She should probably feel guilty but the free show was the least he could do for scaring the crap out of her.

It isn't until Klaus stands, the movement filled with grace and power, and she can't help but be a little mesmerized by the sight.

Something he clearly notices if the unbearably smug little smirk he wears is anything to go by.

She whirls before he can face her fully because she knows she wouldn't be able to resist letting her eyes drift below the belt. Caroline crosses her arms and straightens her spine biting out, "Yeah, I'm going to need you to put on some pants."

His laugh is soft but she hears him opening a door, rummaging around. The quiet jangling of a belt and the whisper of fabric follow shortly after. Her foot begins to tap without her permission, her impatience growing as questions begin to whirl. She wants to peek over her shoulder (because seriously, how long could it _take_? Pants, shirts. Easy peasy).

"I'm decent, sweetheart," he says, after an agonizingly long time.

She spins on her heel, "I highly doubt that," Caroline spits. He's got his arms lifted, fiddling with the ever present cords he wears around his neck and this time she keeps her eyes trained firmly on his face and _not_ on any lifting his shirt may or may not be doing.

Klaus grins, amused. "Perhaps you've a point."

Her eyes narrow as she takes in his complete ease. It just wasn't fair. "_Decent_ people don't scare other people out of their minds by being a creepy stalking giant ball of furry death, Klaus."

He sobers, if only slightly. "I apologize if I scared you. It wasn't my intention. I didn't mean…" he trails off and it might be the first time Caroline's ever seen him stop to consider his words.

"You didn't mean _what_?" she presses. "What are you even _doing_ here? New Orleans sounded pretty freaking great when you described it. Did you piss everyone off and get kicked out or what?"

His eyes light up, "Ah so you did get my message. I'd wondered."

She hopes it's dark enough that Klaus can't see her face because she knows it's possible she's blushing a bit. She'd listened to his message more times than she'd ever admit, had a hard time tamping down the wants and curiosities his words brought out in her.

There was plenty of time to explore the world, she had told herself. Her mother only had a finite number of years and the least Caroline could do was get a college diploma her mom could brag about around the Sheriff's office before Caroline had to go off the grid with her never aging face.

Klaus continues, leaning back against his SUV, not waiting for her to reply. "And while I wouldn't say I was kicked out of New Orleans there were several people who were most displeased with my behavior."

"Did you try to murder them? Because that's not the way to make friends and influence people, Klaus."

He hums, lips quirking up in a smile, "Debatable, love. However as a matter of fact I did not. I merely got a bit… moody."

"You?" Caroline gasps in mock surprise, laying her hand over her heart, "Well I _never_."

He sighs in exasperation but it's playful, pushing away from the vehicle and walking towards her. "After one particularly rousing fight Rebekah told me that if I didn't get out of her sight she and Elijah would team up, find a witch, and smother me in my sleep. Repeatedly."

Caroline shrugs, "You kinda have something like that coming, don't you think? Given the whole dagger thing."

"She found those. Unfortunately. Hid them impressively well. Leaving me no other option but to retreat from the house."

"And what, you came here? That's an awfully long walk."

"Not directly. This was nearly a month ago. I headed out to the Bayou, turned, wondering if some time as a wolf would help my temperament."

"And did it?" Caroline asks, her interest piqued, wondering where this story was going.

"I never got a chance to find out. I couldn't turn back. I tried for hours but I was stuck."

Her brows furrow, "But you just…"

He shakes his head, "I went back to the house once I realized that something was amiss. Had a great deal of difficulty communicating my dilemma to Elijah, as I'm sure you can imagine. Eventually, he got the gist of it, found a witch."

"And the witch turned you back?"

"If only it were that easy," Klaus says, the twist of his lips wry.

She's about to ask what exactly _that_ means but he steps a little closer, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. It's gentle, something she feels like she can break if she needs to though she has no immediate urge to pull away. Quite the opposite, in fact. Caroline finds she's tempted to touch him _back, _her fingers twitching as she fights the urge, but that's crazy, right?

Her questions stick in her throat when his thumb flutters over her pulse point, her eyes widening in shock at the jolt of warmth it sends up her arm. When he speaks again it's quieter, with a hesitance that's uncharacteristic, but he's close enough that she doesn't need to strain. "What do you know about mates, Caroline?"

"Mates," she repeats slowly. "I know it's about the least sexy word for significant other there is. And that Dawson's Creek made it totally gross. Just because a boy thinks he's your soulmate doesn't mean he owns your hymen."

He's still touching her, and she still doesn't mind, his face relaxed and filled with a fondness that's hard for her to look away from. "In terms of werewolves, love. It's old lore, something I myself discounted so it's reasonable that you're unfamiliar with the stories."

"Werewolves have _mates_?" He's right, she's never heard that and it seems ludicrous. Werewolves are rare, their territories spread out. Seems like a recipe for inbreeding and that's not helpful for a species.

"Apparently. Often not another wolf and finding one's mate is rare."

"Huh," Caroline murmurs, still turning it over. "Thanks for the fun fact."

Klaus' shows no offense at her disbelief, "I was skeptical too. But the witch insisted, even under Rebekah's very dire threats, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to try her suggestion. Reasoned that I could always find someone more competent later on."

"Okay," Caroline drawls, knowing she's missing _something_ from Klaus' expectant gaze. "So what happened next?"

"We drove to Whitmore. I weathered Elijah's incessant complaints about the fur on his upholstery. We parked outside your dorm room and I was finally able to change back."

Her jaw drops as the implication sinks in, a staccato burst of laughter spilling from her. Klaus doesn't even flinch, eyes knowing and patient. "You're saying that I'm…"

"Tell me, Caroline, did you feel _off_ this summer? Prickly and not quite yourself?"

How could he know that? "I…" she splutters for a moment, "I was just adjusting, you know? Things haven't exactly been sunshine and rainbows for me. I'm not… I can't be…"

Again, Klaus seems to choose his words carefully, and they come out measured. "My sources tell me Tyler hasn't returned. That he's met a lovely young werewolf in his travels and seems loathe to leave Carson City."

"That," Caroline snaps, tugging her arm away from him, "is none of your business."

Klaus holds up his hands, dips his head in contrition, "Apologies. But I wonder if you've missed him like you used to. Or has it changed, grown more distant? Do you miss your friend, Caroline? Or your lover?"

A small thread of alarm grows in Caroline at his too accurate words. "How do you know that?" she hisses.

"Call it a hunch. And you've not taken up with any of the college boys who seek you out to distract yourself, you've not been drowning your sorrows."

She throws her hands up. Discussing her alarmingly non-existent libido is crossing a major line. "Okay, seriously. How long have you been stalking me? That's not okay, Klaus."

Klaus' eyes flash gold, a hint of temper in the set of his jaw, "I had little choice, Caroline. I have no desire to live as a wolf indefinitely. I'd not have disturbed you, I _haven't_ disturbed you. Being geographically close to you eased the worst of my symptoms, yours as well from what I've gleaned so I was content to wait, at least until our states worsened. But tonight I couldn't help myself. The pull to you was stronger in my wolf form than I had anticipated and I couldn't resist it."

She digests that, studying him warily, "Just how long have you been here?"

"I arrived your first week. Do you remember anything special happening? I'd wager that's right around the time your irritability became a little more manageable."

She keeps her face blank even as the truth of his words sinks in. If she'd remained in as deep a funk as she'd been in over the summer she'd probably be homeless and have done major damage to her GPA by now. That first week Bonnie and Elena had been alarmingly close to joining forces and snapping her neck just to get some peace, Caroline knew. It was only the easing of the varied extreme moods she'd been experiencing that had led them to back off. At the time she hadn't put much thought into the change, just relieved she was functioning at a reasonable level once more. Klaus was right about the timing and Caroline's mind whirled with _why_ that could be.

"So you're saying I felt better because you were around. Because I'm your…" she can't say it. It seems too crazy.

Klaus has no such issue, the word spilling out crisp and firm, "Mate. Precisely. Proximity eases the worst of the symptoms though you'll still be off unless we have regular contact."

"Contact," Caroline repeats, slightly dubious.

Klaus watches her carefully, eases back into her space. He skims his fingertips up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, and she fights a shiver. She shouldn't _want_ him to touch her but she body aches for more now that he is. His palm settles on her neck, slipping under her hair to cup her nape. She knots her hands in her skirt to keep from reaching out to him, thanks her lucky stars her bra has a molded cup. "Physical contact," Klaus elaborates, low and with an edge of roughness that has her stomach clenching.

She takes a shaky breath, tries to gather her splintering thoughts. "You're insane. I can't…"

"What do you feel right now, Caroline?"

She shakes her head, swallows down her answer. She feels good, comfortable. Sorely tempted to step into him and press her face against his throat and let his warmth sink into her skin. She feels, Caroline realizes, better than she has in a _really_ long time

Klaus takes her other hand with his free one, tangling their fingers together. She squeezes without meaning to. "I know this isn't something you'd planned for, Caroline. And I truly meant to stay away. But I couldn't."

She can't think, not with the way he's touching her.

Caroline grits her teeth and takes a giant step back, shivering for an entirely different and unpleasant reason. Cold seeps in, the return of that prickling uncomfortableness she's come to know. Klaus' body goes taut, his stance widening as he fights to stay still and not follow her. She takes a deep breath, "I'm not sure I buy this."

His snort is derisive, "Your body tells a different story."

Caroline shoots him a quelling look, "I admit you've made some sense and some of your arguments are… persuasive. But I need to think. And do some research."

He looks like he's about to protest but she cuts him off quickly, "_You've_ had time to think this through. I get the same."

His expression conveys his displeasure but he nods, a short jerk, and his eyes never leave her face. She takes a step back, "I'll call you. When I'm ready."

Klaus' makes a soft noise of assent. "Fine," he replies. "I'll be waiting." She offers him a wave as she leaves, his words playing on a loop as she gets back on the path in the woods.

It was probably a bad sign that she found them comforting.


	80. Magical Creature Mini-ish Drabbles

**Notes:** Hi all! I've just finished my not so fun semester. I've not written a whole lot lately but I have been doing little drabbles when I had a spare bit of time and posting them on Tumblr. This batch is all non-vamp/witch/werewolf magical AUs. The irst one is NSFW, the rest are all SFW. Enjoy!

**No Time For Common Sense**

**(Prompt: "both of us are trying out for the same chaser spot on the quidditch team and once it's clear we're the best there by far we start doing progressively crazier stunts to outdo each other" au. SMUT)**

Caroline's limping when she makes her way out of the shower stall, her flip flops slapping loudly on the tile floors. The locker room is quiet since the other women trying out for the team had been quicker than she was. She liked them all, which was a bonus. They'd made plans to get together for brunch over the weekend, to compare notes about their tryout experiences.

She'd heard them file out a half hour ago, talking and giggling, while Caroline had still been wincing through shampooing her hair. Her left side feels like one continuous bruise and her knee is screaming bloody murder courtesy of a rough landing. She'd barely managed to pull out of a spin before crashing into the ground, had been thrown from her broom and hit the grass in a roll.

At least she'd managed to keep a hold of the quaffle.

That seemed like a small victory now that Caroline can barely bend her leg but she'd take it. Stairs are going to be a bitch tomorrow. She's dreading the lecture she'll have to sit through when she drags herself to Bonnie. Bon's one of Caroline's oldest friends and a current mediwitch in training and has glared disapprovingly while patching up Caroline's more minor injuries.

Of which there have been many.

As sore as she is it's nothing she hasn't dealt with before over the last few weeks. Tryouts for the New Orleans quidditch team are notoriously brutal, sabotage among hopefuls not uncommon. There was a single chaser spot open this year and Caroline was determined to get it. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one gunning for the position. She'd already made it through two cuts and there was one other person left in the running. The worst possible person.

In addition to being a giant pain in the ass Kol Mikaelson was also the brother of the team's captain which was why Caroline was pushing herself, and her body, to such extremes. She _knew_ she was better than Kol, that she would work harder. She only had to convince Klaus.

And she _would_.

A throat clears, startling her, and Caroline's hand flies to the knotted towel at her chest, checking that it's secure. Her jaw drops for a moment when she sees Klaus lounging on one of the benches, looking perfectly at ease despite the humidity and the tendrils of steam floating around the room. "Can't you read?" Caroline hisses before she can even think about reconsidering. "This is the _women's_ locker room."

Klaus grins in response and she feels a little relieved that he seems completely unoffended. He's mostly seemed amused when her mouth had gotten away from her on the pitch – had laughed when he'd caught her muttering creative threats under her breath after a beater hopeful with more biceps than brains had nearly taken her head off. She gives him points for not getting pissy when her ire is directed his way. She'd have been livid if she'd just killed her chances by snarling a reprimand, mild though it had been, at him. "I read perfectly well, sweetheart. I just thought I'd make sure you were alright. You hit the ground hard. Left a bit of a dent."

Was he seriously concerned about the _grass_? Klaus had a reputation for being kind of a dick but that was a little much. "I'll send a note of apology to the groundskeeper," Caroline replies, not attempting to hide the sharp edge as she glares at him. She flips her hair over her shoulder, turning towards her locker. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Klaus interrupts her with a harsh noise, and suddenly he's touching her. Caroline stills, lets out a soft pained grunt when his fingertips brush over a particularly sore patch of skin near her shoulder blade. "Sorry," he murmurs, immediately lightening the pressure. "That looks bad."

"It didn't feel great," Caroline admits, remembering how she'd felt like all her bones had been jarred, how she'd laid there dazed and aching until Kol had touched down next to her, taunted her until she'd dragged herself to her feet.

He hums in acknowledgement, pressing slow soothing circles into her skin. She relaxes into it for a moment, head tipping to the side in relief before she catches herself, tossing a wary look over her shoulder, "If you're the kind of skeeze who's going to try to get me to sleep with you in return for a good word with the coaches I will make you regret it."

"That'd be a bit useless considering you've already been selected."

It takes a moment for that to sink in but when it does Caroline whirls, her wet hair slapping her shoulders, "Shut up."

He looks incredulous, "You've been working yourself to death, Caroline. Have been taking frankly insane risks in the drills and managing impressive plays. Of course you made the team."

The only thing stopping her from breaking out into a victory dance is the fact that she knows it'll hurt. And that she's not sure her towel's up to the strain. "What about Kol?"

Klaus shrugs, "Honestly, Kol and I as teammates would be a disaster. One of us would likely end up dead and then those obligatory family dinners would be even frostier."

He seems perfectly nonchalant, his eyes on her face, and Caroline finds herself relaxing. She offers him a small smile, "Well, thanks for the info."

"Your agent will be getting a call first thing tomorrow. Try to act surprised, yeah?"

Caroline can totally manage that. Thank you, drama minor. "Will do."

"I brought some bruise paste," Klaus tells her, hefting a familiar jar. "Will you let me help you?"

She bites her lip, considering the offer. She hadn't allowed herself to flirt with Klaus, though she's definitely had the opportunity, and had sensed he'd be amenable, not wanting the distraction during tryouts.

Which were over now.

_Maybe_ she could celebrate that fact, and her brand new awesome job, with something better than Haagen Daas.

As long as they got a few things straight first, "Is this a regular thing for you? Do you nurse sore muscles and soothe the bruises of all your teammates?"

"Hardly," Klaus denies. "If I offered I think they'd insist I had a concussion."

"So why me?"

He doesn't shift, makes no attempt to dodge her eyes. Merely tips his head to the side, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a smile, "Surely you've noted my interest? You took great pains to avoid my attempts to engage you in conversation that first evening when everyone went out."

"And yet you kept trying."

He nods, conceding the point. "Admitting defeat is not in my nature, love. And I rather thought you looked my way too often for someone who wasn't interested."

Ugh, she'd thought she'd been subtle. Caroline hadn't been able to stop herself from watching him, cataloguing the differences in his body and how he moved without quidditch pads. She's been a little tipsy by the end of the night, and his shirtsleeves had been pushed up, the buttons at his collar undone. It was entirely possible she hadn't been able to mask her appreciation.

He's waiting for her answer, patient and expectant and she shakes herself. "I didn't want things to get messy during tryouts."

"And now that tryouts are over?" Klaus asks, edging forward the slightest bit. Close enough that she could reach out and pull him closer.

It's a tempting thought.

Caroline takes a deep breath and turns, giving him her back once more, gathering her hair over one shoulder to keep it out of the way. She hears him open the jar, starts a little at the coldness of it as he begins to spread it on her skin. "Sorry," he murmurs, and she almost jumps again in surprise at how close he is, his warmth emanating faintly along her back.

Caroline shakes her head, doing her very best to stop her spine from melting under the soothing strokes of his palm, "It's fine."

Klaus, it seems, is determined to drive her insane. He leans closer, and she feels his breathe on her bare shoulder. "Let's hope this stops your pretty skin from turning black and blue."

This time she does shiver. Klaus hand skims lower in response, tracing the edge of her towel. She can feel his question though he stays silent. She inhales, the slightest bit shaky, loosening the knot and letting the towel slip lower, so the entirety of her back is exposed. His hands rest on her still covered hips gently, turning until he can sink down onto the bench with her in front of him. Her toes curl into the tiles when she feels his exhale against the base of her spine.

She half expects him to tug the towel away from her unresisting fingertips but he continues his work on her back, moving methodically down the length of her spine, spreading the bruise paste outwards until her head's rolled forward and she's got her lips pressed together to keep in her moans.

His hands are freaking incredible.

She can't quite stop the noise of complaint from spilling out when he stops. His answering sound of amusement is low, a little rough, and she's pretty sure he's breathing a little harshly when he stands. "That should suffice. Can I drive you to your hotel, sweetheart?"

Was he serious?!

She spins and shoves him back onto the bench before she can talk herself out of it. Caroline grips his shoulders and settles into his lap, pleased when his arms encircle her waist. His cock is also quite clearly straining the zipper of his jeans, and his jaw tightens when she rolls her hips against him. It was good to know she hadn't just made a total ass out of herself.

"That," she tells him severely, curling a hand around his neck, "was the kind of foreplay that romance novels are built on. 'Drive me back to my _hotel_?' Puh-lease."

The towel's still gathered around her waist between them and his hands slip upwards, gliding over the bare skin of her ribs, his thumbs teasing the underside of her breasts, still faintly cool from the menthol in the bruise paste. "Did you have something else in mind?" he asks, blinking up at her far too innocently for someone who's practically feeling her up.

Caroline's not really on board with the 'practically' part, arches her back in an unsubtle hint that has the added benefit of grinding their lower bodies together in a way that has Klaus hissing out a curse and Caroline's eyes fluttering at the pleasure of it. In case that wasn't enough of a hint she ducks her head, brushing her lips over his. Klaus leans back slightly, head tipping up so his mouth catches hers firmly, his lips parting in invitation.

One Caroline takes, delving into his mouth greedily, her fingertips skimming his throat, discovering the texture of his stubble as she tastes him for the first time.

She kisses him until she can't breathe, goes in for another once she sucks in a much needed lungful of air. Klaus is just as eager, hands beginning to wander and Caroline hums her approval when he cups her breast, rubbing over the tight peak, testing her reactions. There's something familiar about the callouses on his hand and he pulls back to watch her face, studying her reactions as he touches her, before his head dips. His mouth is hot on her nipple and Caroline runs her hand through his hair as he sucks, tugs when she feels the edge of his teeth. Klaus takes that as encouragement, switching sides as his hands slide up her thighs. He traces the crease of where her leg meets her torso, a pleased rumble coming from him at the dampness he finds there. "Do not even think about being smug," she warns him, narrowing her eyes playfully.

"Me? Smug, never."

She's about to call bullshit, because she's observed him enough over the last couple weeks to know that Klaus has a more than healthy ego, when he tugs the towel the rest of the way off, leaving her naked and spread across his lap.

The lap that remains fully clothed, which just isn't fair in Caroline's opinion. She makes quick work of his shirt but doesn't have time to consider the best way to get his pants off before he's distracting her. He's managed to insinuate his hand in between their bodies, stroking over her folds and she digs her nails into his shoulders to steady herself as she tenses. His hands are warm but there's a faint tingle because of the leftover ointment and it makes her squirm. Klaus kisses her collarbone, his voice a low rasp, "Tell me if I do anything you don't like. Tell me what you _do_ like."

She nods mindlessly, pressing closer, letting out a sigh as his touch deepens, his fingers becoming slick as he learns her body. The words stick in her throat but Klaus doesn't seem to need them, reading the twitching of her muscles, the whines and moans that tumble from her easily until he's got two fingers pressed inside of her while his thumb does lazy circuits around her clit.

Klaus doesn't seem to be having the same trouble speaking, murmuring delicious filth in her ear, telling her how good she feels around his fingers, how he can't wait to feel her wrapped around his cock. "Let go, Caroline. Come for me," he tells her, low and demanding. She strains, rolling her hips against his fingers and shatters with a sharp cry, trembling against him.

He's mindful of her back as she comes down, the soothing strokes of his hands avoiding the areas he knows are bruised. She buries a smile in his throat, dragging her fingers down the taut muscles of his abs. They firm even further under her touch, twitching as she toys with his belt. "This needs to come off," Caroline tells him, soft and hoarse, a tone she barely recognizes. "Pants too."

Klaus shows no inclination to argue, leaning back to help her strip his jeans away. It's neither graceful nor smooth, her legs are a little wobbly and they almost spill off the bench, but they manage. Caroline reaches down, circling his cock as she nips at his jaw, running her hand along the length of him teasingly. "I really hoped you locked the door," she tells him, lining him up at her entrance. "Because we're totally going to need another shower after this."

His reply is unintelligible, a garbled groan as she sinks down swiftly, biting down on his shoulder to muffle her own whimper. He presses her closer, encourages her to wrap her thighs around his waist. She moans as he sinks in deeper, guides his mouth back to hers to muffle the sounds she's helpless to stop when he begins to move.

An hour later they make a quick pit stop for another jar of bruise paste when Klaus drives her back to her hotel. Luckily, the bed in her room is _very_ soft.

* * *

**How Big, How Blue**

**(Prompt: It's kind of an unspoken rule for us mermaids to not reveal ourselves to humans, but I've been watching you work as a life guard on my beach and I think it's about time I try this "drowning" thing you humans do that always brings you into the water. Title from the Florence + The Machine song. Rated K+)**

There was something very odd about the human.

To begin with he'd managed to startle Caroline the first time she'd seen him. In her habitat, a place where _he _should be the one lacking in grace. It had been very late, the skies dark and the moon, a few days shy of full, the only illumination. She'd ventured close to the water's surface knowing that the humans would have long since retreated from the ocean.

They were delicate, had such trouble with the sea even during the days when the sun shone and warmed the water, forever shrieking and splashing and hopping out to apply that odd white paste only to venture in again and go through the same routine. Once night hit and temperatures cooled the humans preferred to stay on the shore, light their fires and cook their food on sticks while huddling close together under piles and piles of fabric.

At a young age Caroline had taken a liking to their music. She took every opportunity she could find to listen to it, often found herself humming along and swaying, taking care to keep herself obscured either by drifting just below the surface or hiding under docks or alongside tethered boats.

The evening she'd first encountered the unusual human who'd piqued her interest she'd been doing just that, floating on her back to keep her bright hair obscured. There were only a few people out that night and faint white clouds formed every time Caroline exhaled. Her eyes had been closed so she'd _felt_ the disturbance in the water before she'd seen it and had immediately submerged herself with an ungainly splash, slipping deep into the water until her hands were brushing the sandy ocean bottom.

Wide-eyed she'd watched as a human passed over her, his long limbs cutting through the water in powerful strokes.

He'd worn none of the funny garments humans wrapped themselves in when they took to the water, not the flimsy brightly colored bits some preferred nor the sleek second skins some squeezed their way into when they planned to spend more time in the ocean.

That night _he'd_ worn nothing at all.

She'd told herself to avert her eyes, that it was the _polite_ thing to do, but her gaze had remained riveted on the pale expanse of his flesh on display, the way his muscles rippled as he slipped through the currents.

He'd never know about her wandering eyed, a tiny voice had whispered. Besides, it was _her_ ocean, wasn't it?

Many of the mermaids Caroline knew weren't fond of humans. Her father spoke longingly of the days before their waters had been infested by them, sneered every time one of the huge ugly square dwellings they seemed to live in sprung up along a previously beautiful stretch of beach.

He'd be livid if he knew that one of Caroline's favorite past time was to watch them. They were just so… _interesting_.

Her curiosity had flared watching the human swim away from the beach and she'd found herself following, staying well under him as the water deepened, eventually growing alarmed as his distance from the shore increased and he showed no signs of flagging, his movements sure and steady.

Didn't he _know_ the ocean was dangerous for a creature as frail as he was? That there were things that would delight in chewing him up and spitting out his bones for his human friends to find washed up on the shore?

Sure, the ocean would be peaceful immediately afterwards, the humans too wary to venture in. Caroline's father would be pleased. For a time. But humans always came back and sometimes, in the interest of safety, attempted things that were more of a hassle than their usual invasions in the name of fun.

Plus, Caroline would miss the music.

Her worries had been unfounded that night, the water around them had remained still, no predators making themselves known. Even the more benign species seemed to give them a wide berth, Caroline had spotted a small school of Bluefish veer sharply east, making their way _around_ the oblivious human unprompted by any action on her part.

Very, very odd.

She'd just been debating _doing_ something, what she hadn't been sure as revealing herself was _strictly_ forbidden, when he'd finally slowed, and pulled himself upright to tread water. She'd made a slow circuit around his form, her senses tuned to make sure there were no threats nearby.

Caroline had not been in the mood to spoil a fine evening by fighting a shark, or something even worse, that sensed easy prey. Encroaching on her family's territory would be idiotic but Caroline had imagined that some might risk it for. Opportunities to steal a human so cleanly that far from land were rare.

She'd been on guard, tense and wary, the human oblivious above her. Caroline could hear his heart beating, listened to it gradually slow from its rapid rhythm as his motions grew languid.

She'd grown a touch concerned – _had_ he overexerted himself? If so however was she supposed to get him far enough up onto the shore where he'd be found and helped without being _seen_? He hadn't acted like he'd been in any distress but still she'd drifted closer, reaching out to touch him, and had been startled by the _warmth _still being emitted from him and had immediately snatched her hand back, retreating further once it became clear that he was fine, had just been resting.

Her withdrawal had been a stroke of luck, as it turned out, because he'd ducked under the water, dangerously close to where she'd just been, and began to swim once more, this time back in the direction he'd come from.

She'd trailed him, her puzzlement growing, because he hadn't seemed the least bit tired, and his motions remained as strong and sure as they'd been on his way out. Humans were weak as a rule, not suited for the ocean, and easily exhausted by fighting its waves.

Except for this one, somehow.

He'd surfaced once more, a fair distance from the beach, paused and veered away from the small gathering on shore, swum west for several minutes until he'd aimed for land again, coming up on the opposite side of a small outcropping of rock, hidden from view of the other humans. She'd watched as he'd retrieved a small bundle, rubbed himself dry and dressed in unhurried movements. As if he didn't even feel the cold like a human should.

He'd padded away, swallowed up by the night, unaware that Caroline's eyes tracked his every movement.

She'd watched him until he'd disappeared, lingered even after wondering if he'd come back, before beginning her long swim back home.

Still, he remained on her mind.

The puzzle of him flitted through her brain at odd times over the next few days. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, Caroline took a chance and slipped away, back to the beach. It was still light outside, the sky filling with pinks and oranges as people trickled out of the water.

She spotted him right away.

Dressed in familiar clothes, the ones she often saw on a handful of humans, those tasked with the safety of the others of their species (and sometimes called to pluck a wayward one out of the water) he paced the border between the dry and wet sand. Some stopped to talk to him but never for very long, each dismissed and sent on their way.

He seemed impatient, edgy, the lines of his body obviously tense even from a distance. Once the beach was deserted he relaxed, if only minutely and Caroline watched with interest as he peeled his shirt off, tossing it behind him so the tide wouldn't take it, before taking several long strides into the water. Once it was waist deep he dove, not surfacing for a very long time.

_Much_ longer than most humans could manage.

Caroline knew then that she was going to break a very big rule, that she couldn't _not_. She had far too many questions.

Tomorrow she'd come earlier. There was always a girl who got theatrical, flailing her arms and making a fuss as she pretended like the water was overcoming her, all in the hopes that one of the young men who watched over the beach goers would perform an act of heroism. Caroline would observe, see if she couldn't figure out a (more subtle and less ridiculous) imitation.

The next time this human went on his midnight swim she'd be ready to make his acquaintance.

* * *

**The Abominable Snow-Kol**

**(Prompt: How about: "So I told him that under no circumstances was he allowed to pet the yeti, and that's when it happened…" Rated K+)**

Klaus ignores his ringing phone, squares his shoulder and attempts to focus on the nearly blank canvas in front of him. He's been doing much the same for hours, ever since the incessant calls had started to roll in just after he'd risen. He'd checked the screen, found Kol's name flashing across it and had angrily set the device aside. Not crushing it into a useless ball of metal and glass had been difficult. Kol's taunts about his most recent traveling companion – the elusive Caroline Forbes – have been driving Klaus to distraction over the last few days.

As a result no one's dared disturb Klaus lately, not since he'd gotten a bit testy and tossed one of Marcel's hangers on over the balcony.

Kol knows precisely what he's doing and Klaus would bet he'd barely been able to contain his glee each time he'd sent a message. Pictures only, what seemed to be innocent glimpses of gorgeous scenery.

Until one looked closer, which Klaus did, and saw the little hints of Caroline flitting around the edges of the frames. The curve of her shoulder, her blonde curls blowing in the wind along the left of one. Her feet, toenails painted bright pink, her ankles crossed and resting on a chaise in the corner of another. Nearly a dozen images over the past week or so, each at a different time, sent with no warning, which Klaus devoured and memorized.

Klaus had attempted to reach Kol but his brother's not willing to give up his game, hasn't deigned to pick up his phone, nor answer any of Klaus' texts probing for details of their escapades (purely for practical purposes, of course. Kol inevitably got himself into a mess, it was only prudent that Klaus kept tabs so he could send in a cleanup crew quickly and efficiently).

The fact that Kol wants to talk _now_ is both curious and suspicious. Klaus is refusing to rise to the bait, as difficult as it is.

The ringing finally stops and Klaus straightens, dabbing his brush in a deep blue. Perhaps he'll actually manage get something done. He mixes the pigments, searching for the perfect shade, losing himself in the task.

It takes a moment to register a new ringing. Tinny and distant had Klaus senses been even a fraction less keen he'd have missed it. He tips his head, trying to place it, realizes it's coming from his bedroom.

There's only one phone there. An old one.

Klaus is up the stairs before the palette and the brush hit the floor. He keeps the phone tucked away in his closet, plugged in and charged and he nearly rips the door off his hinges in his haste. He's expecting a call, deflates upon seeing a series of texts from an unknown number.

Reading them, Klaus realizes just who the sender is.

_PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE, YOU DICK._

_BARBIE'S ABOUT TO LOSE HER MIND._

_IT'S NOT PRETTY_

_SHE'S SHRILL. AND LOUD._

_MY EARS ARE NO LONGER SELF HEALING, REMEMBER?_

Was Klaus supposed to feel sorry for Damon Salvatore and his pitiful returned humanity? Because he really didn't.

Still, he rushes back downstairs, snatches his current phone up off of the table where it's resting. He hurriedly dials, beginning to pace as he waits for the call to connect.

Caroline doesn't bother with pleasantries, sounds out of breath, though he hears loud mechanical rattling in the background, "Finally!" she spits. "I have been calling you for _hours_."

"Kol and I aren't…speaking at the moment," Klaus explains, feeling a tinge abashed. Caroline's been travelling for a few decades now and they've seen each other a few times. Casual run-ins that he'd arranged where they'd caught up and she'd smirked and tossed barbs that were friendlier than not while mostly ignoring his contrivances.

She snorts, "Yeah, I saw his phone. He's a creep, by the way, and we _will_ be having words about the ethics of sneaking pictures and sending them without permission."

Klaus perks up, pleased that it seems as if Caroline's grown tired of Kol's antics. "Oh? Have you two parted ways?"

"Oh, I wish," Caroline bites out, a world of exhaustion in the words. "He's currently completely out of it and growing fur after tangling with some witches. I seriously thought about leaving him behind and booking it but my pesky conscience got in the way."

Apparently Klaus had been correct to anticipate trouble. He heads back upstairs, knowing he needs to find shoes. He'll need to track down Elijah too, from the sounds of it. Bekah as well, if only because she'll throw a tantrum if she misses the sight of Kol cursed and covered in fur. "Well, you're young yet," he jokes lightly. "I'm sure your conscience will grow less troublesome with time."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that," she mutters, though Klaus thinks he hears amusement behind her exasperation.

"Where are you?" Klaus asks.

"I think we're close to the Nepalese border. I lost my phone in the fray, expect a bill by the way, otherwise I would have called you myself. It's lucky I've got Elena and Damon's home number memorized."

"Mmm, my least favorite Salvatore did not seemed pleased to be the messenger."

Caroline snorts, "Please. It's the least he can do after all the times he expected me to do his bidding."

He finds himself smiling. Caroline's just as he remembered, and she'd never been one to forget a slight or shy away from pressing an advantage. Something he's always admired. It's really too bad this isn't a personal call. Klaus focuses on the pressing problems, "You're driving?" he asks, just to confirm.

"I stole a car."

"So grand theft auto doesn't tickle you conscience?" Klaus teases.

She huffs out an annoyed breath, "Desperate times. Once Kol went down I chose flight. I was seriously outgunned."

"Smart, sweetheart. Covens in that area of the world are secretive and said to wield great power." They've been something of a fascination of Kol's for centuries though they've always spurned his attempts to make cordial contact. "Now, what's this you've said about fur?"

She makes a noise, low in her throat that's almost a laugh, "So, witch familiars are a thing, which I'm sure you knew."

"I did," Klaus confirms. "I've seen a variety over the years."

"Well, these witches have them. And Kol got a little bit too fascinated despite the fact that they warned him to stay away and promised dire consequences if he didn't."

Klaus held back a sigh. Waving that sort of temptation in front of Kol was a terrible idea. "What did he do, sweetheart?"

"Well, they invited us to a gathering and they seemed nice enough. No one tried to kill me which is kinda a novelty with witches, you know? Kol tagged along and didn't really make friends. He totally needs to quit that smarmy thing he thinks is flirting. Learn how to read a signal. Actually, you know what? Maybe he comes by that honestly."

Klaus laughs, ignores the dig and tucks the phone into his shoulder as he begins to pack. "And then what?"

The breath she blows out is long. "And then things got weird."

"Not an anomaly where Kol's concerned, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, well, I _told_ him that under no circumstances was he allowed to pet the yeti, and that's when it happened…" Caroline words trail off, her silence expectant.

Klaus pauses, straightens. Surely he couldn't have heard _that_ correctly. "Yeti?" he manages, unable to help his skepticism.

"Yeti," Caroline confirms, sounding perfectly serious. "I know it sounds nuts and I promise I'm not in cahoots with Kol in some elaborate prank. Actually, here, wait."

He hears some static, shuffling and the sound of the car slowing. His phone dings after a moment and Klaus sees he's received a photo.

It's of Kol, slumped awkwardly in a cramped and dingy backseat. Growing, as Caroline had said, coarse and prickly looking white fur out of his face and neck.

Klaus is torn between several emotions, annoyance at the fact that he was going to have to fly across the world to sort out this mess, that it would likely cost him a pretty penny, all because Kol was completely lacking in common sense. He's a touch pleased too, because he'd just been thinking that it was time to track down Caroline for one of their visits before Kol had found it first.

He also wants to laugh because he knows Kol's vanity is going to take an awful hit once he's aware of his new hirsute state.

He clears his throat, does his best to sound matter of fact, "Right. Keep driving. I'll pull your location from Kol's phone."

"You have him lo-jacked?"

"It's proven most helpful, love. As I'm sure you can imagine."

She hums an agreement, "I guess I can see that."

"I'll text you directions once I've gotten a flight together for you. We'll meet you halfway."

"Alright," Caroline says, resignation clear. "Make it somewhere nice, huh? Warm, if possible. I'm freaking freezing."

"I'll do my best," Klaus promises, saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.

He packs methodically, putting together plans as he goes. Caroline had wanted something nice, hadn't she? And really, he was sure he could convince her to linger awhile. Footing the bill for a little luxury was the least he could do for her after Kol had gotten her entangled in his nonsense.

Klaus was certain he could persuade her. Rome was nice this time of year, _and_ the perfect distance between New Orleans and Caroline's location.

Had it only been an hour ago he'd been considering digging out the daggers? How quickly things could change. Klaus might even owe Kol a favor assuming setting him to rights wasn't too much of a hassle.

* * *

**Under Night Sky**

**(Prompt: Au, hybrid!Klaus meets dragon!caroline in Aspen, she hates the cold, bed sharing happens. I didn't quite get to the bed sharing though!)**

There were few things that annoyed Caroline more than tourists. Aspen, her current home base, was lousy with them this time of year. They polluted the restaurants, the bars, every single shop in town. She supposed it was good for the economy and she didn't begrudge her neighbors the profits. That didn't stop her from being irritated by it. Even worse was that they were all over _her_ mountain. Humans were everywhere, from sunrise to sunset – with a few stragglers who liked skiing in the dark - severely limiting her opportunities to change and stretch her wings.

She was constantly restless, unable to focus, her skin itchy and tight. Even now, curled up in her favorite chair by a fire with a truly excellent smutty novel, she's cranky. The recent dip in temperature and increase in frigid winds only shortened her already fraying temper.

Seriously, the next drunk frat boy who tossed her a terrible line and expected his stunning wit to earn him a VIP pass into her pants might just get eaten.

Caroline took comfort in the fact that the busy season was almost over. She'd have a couple months to breathe before the summer rush began. That one was slightly more tolerable because at least she wasn't cold in addition to being crowded.

She tosses her book aside in frustration, having realized that she's been reading the same page over and over again. She'd just been getting to the good stuff and it deserved her full attention. A quick glance out the window shows the sun just beginning to set, faint wisps or pink and orange streaking the sky. She usually makes herself wait until it's fully dark before setting out but maybe, just this _one_ time, it won't hurt to go a little early. It was a record low for February, surely most of the tourists had called it an early day, were safely tucked into lodges and cabins with hot chocolate or wine.

She'll just drive slowly, Caroline decides, standing up and stretching out her stiff limbs. By the time she gets to her spot it'll be fine. Deserted and private, just her and the night sky.

Later, Caroline will wonder if the decision to break her routine was among the best, or one of the worst, she's made in her very long life.

* * *

It's not until she's transformed, endured the shift of muscle and bone – painful but endlessly freeing – that Caroline notices something's amiss. In her human form her senses are slightly better than average but nothing compared to her enhanced sight and smell that comes when she's let her dragon loose.

Her clearing, deep in a forest, further than anyone but the odd park ranger bothers to go, has been visited recently. She'd seen the tracks, noted that there must be a particularly large wolf in the vicinity, had been vaguely excited at the possibilities of a hunt. Intent on tracking it she sets her nose to the prints, lets out a startled huff as she takes it in. Another scent mingles with the wolf's, not one Caroline knows but there _is_ something familiar about it.

She's met many werewolves, knew which bits of the legends floating were fact and what was fiction. Transforming at will, a solid week out from the full moon, wasn't something they could do. And yet, there was that distinct scent, proof that one had managed the feat.

How very interesting.

Caroline had never been very good at minding her own business.

As much as she longs to push off, to break the treeline and soar until she's exhausted, the mystery of the tracks nag at her. It's a lone wolf, she knows, incapable of being even a hint of a threat to her. She _could_ let it be, make some calls later to friends who are more in the loop to satisfy her curiosity and see if some new kind of werewolf exists out in the world.

That would probably be the prudent choice.

But prudence was so _boring_ and it's been forever since anything has happened to break up the monotony of Caroline's days. It's been months of hanging out in her apartment, only leaving it when she needed something, or for her solitary flights around the mountains.

She's following the paw prints before she can talk herself out of it.

Caroline's not as stealthy as she wants to be, the werewolf is large in comparison with actual wolves but significantly smaller than she is so can't help disturbing the underbrush around her, sending leaves rustling and snapping branches. She considers doubling back to the clearing and the clothes she's stashed, following on foot. Nixes the idea quickly. Transforming took several minutes and her human skin was far more vulnerable than her dragon's scales. She'd heal if the werewolf decided to attack but she'd really rather avoid being bitten and scratched until she could shift and fight back and make the wolf regret attempting to hurt her.

A little burst of fire or one good chomp would do the trick nicely.

The scent's beginning to get stronger and Caroline knows she's getting closer. Anticipation is humming through her and when she pushes through a dense wall of trees and splashes into an icy stream she lets out a guttural sound of annoyance, making a quick leap to clear the water.

Only to be startled by an amused _human_ laugh.

How had she missed the naked man?!

"Finally," he drawls, unbending from the crouch he'd been in. "I've been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart."

Huh. Not the usual reaction one had, supernatural or not, to coming upon a ten foot winged lizard. Dragons were rare, knowledge of the species closely guarded, and a werewolf shouldn't have the slightest clue that things like her existed.

Maybe, Caroline thinks, tensing in readiness to take off, she should have been more cautious. The man remains unnaturally still, the slightly curled ends of his hair dripping as he studies her. The droplets hit his shoulders and collarbone before slipping lower, trickling down pale skin pulled taut over lean muscles.

She lets her eyes linger on him, feels no shame in doing so. He's not the slightest bit self-conscious, makes no move to hide any of the _very_ impressive parts of his body from her gaze.

Caroline can't help but appreciate his lack of modesty, mentally berates herself for it. Maybe she should have taken one of the frat boy's offers. Surely, if they didn't talk, she could make do and would be less inclined to appreciatively ogle an unknown, if attractive, entity?

Her attention shifts back to his face when he raises his hands slowly, palms up in what Caroline's certain is feigned supplication. Her instincts are sharp, well-honed and never wrong. Her gut's been the only thing that's kept her alive a time or two or twelve over the centuries. She knows when to fight, only does it when she's sure she can win. Faced with the too knowing golden eyes of this stranger she's no longer sure she'd come out on top if things get bloody.

A small part of her is intrigued. Still she eases back a step, takes a deep breath and lets out a puff of air that carries a hint of a threat, the smallest bit of smoke and flame. Not close enough to him to do any damage, she merely singes a nearby bush.

The werewolf's brows rise, his full lips tipping up into a smile, "Ah, you're exactly as advertised. I'm suitably impressed though I assure you I mean you no harm."

This time her snort is distinctly disbelieving and he has no trouble parsing her meaning. He nods a concession, "Yes, I admit that luring you deep into the woods looks suspect. Would it help if I mentioned your friend Bonnie sent me your way?"

It's a surprise but it does the trick. Caroline relaxes slightly though she maintains the distance between them. She's known the Bennett witches for a very long time, Bonnie, the newest of the line, was a good friend, bright, loyal and more powerful than she knew. Caroline was quite fond of her, trusted her more than most people.

He drifts a step closer, palms still slightly raised, his tone warm and beseeching. "Why don't you change back, love? So we can make introductions properly. Discuss a bit of mutually beneficial business."

That earns another noise, a swift denial and she takes her own step away. Did he think she was an idiot? Caroline was tough to kill but that hadn't stopped people from trying over the years. Worse were the idiots who thought to imprison her, the ones who knew how valuable her blood and scales and teeth were. They'd always attempted to strike when she was in her human body, when her strength and speed were manageable, her claws not nearly as sharp.

She reaches out with one, the tip lethally pointed and more than capable of gutting him, and scrawls out a symbol in the snow. It's the logo of a bar in town and if he's not smart enough to figure it out Caroline doubts any business he pitches will be worth her time. He studies it for a second before nodding genially, "As the lady wishes. Tomorrow? Say, 8 o'clock?"

Caroline jerks her head in acknowledgement, stretching her wings and preparing to push off. His eyes light up, turning molten and hot, a greedy fascination clear as they take her in. "Fascinating," he murmurs. "I'll be there."

She's in the air before he can say anything else, high above the tree line with only a few powerful flutters of her wings. He remains still, getting smaller and smaller but Caroline somehow still feels his gaze. She does her very best to ignore the warmth building in her. Her gut told her that those eyes of his were dangerous, that skipping town might be her best option. That he was more than he appeared. She reaches for reason, for cold rationality, but finds it hard to grasp.

She curses her restlessness, her often over active imagination. She wants to know what color his eyes turn when his wolf's safely tucked away, if the impact of them on her body is the same.

Tomorrow she'll find out.

* * *

**Have It All**

**(Prompt: Klaroline + they find out dragons exist/aren't extinct when Caroline accidentally finds herself with a pet dragon. WARNING: Contains the full line up of canonical magical babies. Skip if you're not into them! Rated: K+)**

When Caroline's newest student, a young boy from a coven in remote part of Sweden that was exhibiting abilities his parent's didn't know how to deal with, had shown up with a blue enameled box as a gift Caroline hadn't been able to turn it down. He'd smiled, sweet and shy, and told her in lilting accented English that he was looking forward to beginning to learn and left the box on her desk while one of her assistants set out to introduce him to the other kids in his age group.

She'd studied the box for a minute, held it up to the light to admire the vivid blues and swirling silvers that decorated it. It had been remarkably heavy, she'd noted and she'd been searching for a latch when someone had knocked at her office door.

Running a school meant precious little time to kick back and relax, Caroline had found. She was forever on her feet putting out (sometimes literal) fires. She'd set the box aside to go deal with her visitor and once she'd returned to her office she'd buckled down to tackle some of her endless piles of paperwork and forgotten all about it

Until it had begun to move. On its own.

Now, a couple years ago Caroline might have screamed bloody murder. These days her nerves were made of sterner stuff. She'd been through all sorts of life and death situations and currently she was often surrounded by tiny people with extreme, sometimes uncontrollable, power at their disposal. A spontaneously moving object is nothing and Caroline merely pushes back her chair, eyeing the box where it's perched innocently on a bookshelf under the window.

She'd been subject to a prank or two and while little Valter Andersson didn't _seem _the type to attempt to make an entrance but maybe that had been on purpose, an attempt to lull her into a false sense of security by hiding his true shit disturber nature.

Magical kids were crafty.

Caroline stretches as she rises, wincing at the faint crack of her spine. She'd been sitting still for way too long, hadn't even noticed it was dark outside. The girls usually hustled her out of her office for dinner or their bedtime routine at the very least, but they were taking a long weekend camping trip with Alaric. She'd been invited but had turned the offer down. Caroline liked indoor plumbing and mattresses, thank you very much, and had decided to stay behind and take the opportunity to get some work done.

The box moves again, a corner edging over the lip of the shelf and Caroline's steps quicken, her hands reaching out to nudge it to safety. She's surprised that it's warm, almost hot, considering the sun had set hours ago. It also seems to be humming faintly, and Caroline has no doubt that there's something witch-y happening.

"Just don't explode," she mutters, reaching for it again. She really didn't want to have to repaint her office or hunt down a new bookcase this weekend. Feeling for a seam she's startled when it opens in her hands. She flips the top up higher, her brows creeping up when she sees a silver egg thing inside.

It has a pronounced crack and is moving about in the bed of soft, silky looking it lays in. She leans closer, almost drops the box when the crack widens.

Was that a… snout? Was there something _alive_ in there?

Cautiously, Caroline reaches in with a fingertip, brushing away a broken bit of shell. A tiny head peeks out, pale blue and scaly, it's eyes blinking open to peer up at her. "Oh my god," Caroline breathes. It makes a noise, a tiny adorable chirp-y thing, and its head nudges her fingertip. "Hi," she manages softly, petting its head gently, doing her _very_ best not to freak out.

She'd never had a pet and lizards gave her the heebie jeebies. Still, no need to scare the poor little thing. It squeaks again, giving a shudder, breaking though the rest of the shell.

At which point she almost drops the box because the lizard had freaking _wings_.

She's immediately startled again, this time by another knock on her office door and Caroline whirls, setting the box gently on her desk where it'll be safer than in her shaky hands. She hadn't even heard anyone approach, so engrossed was she in the box and its contents.

The knock comes again, and she calls permission to enter. Klaus' face is creased with concern when he crosses the threshold, his eyes darting about the room suspiciously. "What's wrong?" he asks, clipped and forceful.

Caroline barely notices Kol wandering in after him even though such a sight usually would have gotten an eye roll or twelve. She'd relocated the school to New Orleans just over six months ago. After a couple years in Mystic Falls Matt was getting antsy as they kept expanding, witches from all over sending kids for guidance, werewolves without packs and vampires without sires showing up at the boardinghouse's door. She'd had to become an expert at deflection, every time she ran into one of her old teachers or some of her classmates a comment was made about how good she looked and questions about her skincare routine asked.

People were only going to buy the sunblock and green tea spiel for so long, she'd known.

Klaus had remained her most generous benefactor over the years, checks popping up regularly no matter how many times she'd protested it was too much. He'd brushed her concerns aside easily with jokes, "Nonsense, love. I've been meaning to sell that castle for ages," and sincerity, "Only the very best for my child," and kept the money flowing into the school's accounts.

When she'd begun to mention packing up and relocating Klaus had pounced on the opportunity. Talked up New Orleans, the history, the abundance of supernatural types who would surely be interested in employment (convincing qualified instructors to move to a town as tiny as Mystic Falls had always been a trial and she often ended up boosting their salaries as an incentive). Tossed her a tiny bit of heart melting guilt about how difficult it was to convince a now nearly teenage Hope to come home for breaks. He'd convinced her to visit, to check out the city.

And, damn him, Klaus had her totally pegged. Caroline had _loved_ New Orleans from that first evening in the quarter, the sounds of jazz music and boisterous laughter bouncing between the stone buildings as she walked by Klaus' side.

She'd been sold even before he'd steered her towards the beignets.

She'd expected him to pick up where he'd left off years ago in Mystic Falls, to immediately begin tossing breath stealing romantic gestures her way in an effort to woo her. She'd even been willing to let him.

In the years since Stefan had died she'd a brief relationship or two, nothing all that serious because Caroline had found she kind of liked being single. It was nice to be able to do what she wanted, to be a little selfish with her time and energy, to not be weighed down by the never ending boyfriend woes that had plagued her since high school. She'd long since accepted that she'd never be Stefan's first choice and she'd made her peace with it, and with how he'd chosen to die. She'd fervently wished she'd had a little more time with him, a little more happiness, but in the end perhaps it had been better that they'd never had the life she'd planned.

Getting over a lifetime with him, something she'd known she'd have to do from the second he turned human, would have been so much harder.

In making the decision to move to New Orleans she'd known she'd likely have to reevaluate her commitment to her relationship status. Klaus had never been shy about letting her know his intentions, that he was still vying to be her last love. He flirted, and charmed, and he'd opened up in the letters they sent back and forth, revealed his own brush with heartbreak, until Caroline truly thought of him as her friend.

When she'd begun packing she'd done so with nervous excitement, thinking of the new chapter she was starting, one that was going to be filled with new adventures of the personal variety, not _just_ the professional.

Imagine her surprise to find that Klaus seemed determined to hold back. Oh, she knew he was interested, could see it in his eyes, the rigid way he often held himself away from her. The first time she'd scored an invite to a Mikaelson family dinner (courtesy of _Hayley_ of all people) she'd watched, wide eyed, her neck swiveling like a tennis spectator as the siblings had sniped and parried over endless courses of delicious food. Things had begun to get heated when dessert had been served and Freya had hustled the twins and Hope to the kitchen, promising extra ice cream with their cake.

Caroline's brand new dress had gotten bloodied not ninety seconds later when Rebekah had flung a dainty silver fork into Kol's carotid artery. Things had been a blur after that, of china smashing and wood splintering. She'd backed away from the table but Klaus had intercepted her, ushering her down a hallway as the sounds of the chaos in the dining room had grown fainter. He'd produced a handkerchief, leaned in to dab at the blood staining her shoulder. He'd been rueful, intent on his work, "Sorry about them, sweetheart. All that time in coffins left Bekah and Kol a little deaf to social niceties. Or at least that's what they'll claim later as they refuse to assist in cleaning up their destruction."

She'd huffed a laugh, leaned her head back against the wall to give him more room, "Good thing you're probably immune to guilt trips, huh?"

She'd stiffened when she'd _felt_ Klaus answering huff of amusement warm against her skin, had been shocked at just how _close_ he was. Hadn't been surprised by the ring of gold in his eyes when she'd met them with hers, the way he'd let the cloth drop to stroke her collarbone with his thumb.

She'd been so ready for him to make a move but he'd straightened, moved far enough away so that they were no longer touching and seemed to shake himself. "There. The fabric's dark enough that the blood's not noticeable. I'll make sure you get a replacement. Let's check on the little ones, hmm? Make sure Freya's not gone overboard with the sugar."

He'd led her away, his hand resting on her back with the barest pressure. He'd done the same sort of thing a dozen times, backed off whenever a moment got too charged. Often showed up with other people in tow, Hope or one of his siblings, so that things stayed light and friendly. Still, she felt him watching her, contemplative and eager, like he was waiting.

Caroline was a smart girl and it hadn't taken her too long to figure out exactly what he was waiting for. The ball was firmly in her court this time. She'd have to be the one to make the next big move.

She was just trying to find the right moment.

Klaus is waiting for her to reply, his hands held at his sides like he's itching to tear into something. It takes her a second to puzzle out why. "Oh! No, I'm fine." She must have sounded strained when she'd told him to come in. "I got a new student today and he brought something… weird with him."

Klaus posture eases and he smirks, "I should think that would be the norm at this point."

"Usually the weird things aren't alive," Caroline says, nodding down at the box on her desk. Both he and Kol amble over, seemingly curious. "I'm not entirely sure what it is. I'm gonna have to google and figure out what this thing eats. It better not be bugs."

Kol's eyes widen with something like glee taking in the small lizard, "Where did you get this? And how much do you want for it?"

Something about_that_ was a little alarming. "It was a gift," she says slowly. "You're a big lizard fan?"

He snorts incredulously, "That is not just a lizard, darling. That is a dragon. I _told_ you they existed, Nik. I had a lovely Finnish witch friend in the 14th century who convinced me but this one daggered me before I could go investigate." He reaches out to touch the creature, recoils sharply when it sinks its teeth into the pad of his index finger. "Ouch, fuck!" he snaps out, shaking his hand once it's free.

"Mind the carpet," Klaus says mildly, his fingers inching out more cautiously. He waits, his hand hovering over the lizard, sorry _dragon_, until it seems to get curious, reaching up to tentatively sniff his palm. "You never did learn the value of patience, brother."

Kol shoots him a glare, his lips tipping up in a mocking smirk. "You can keep your patience, Nik. Celibacy is not the life for me." He favors Caroline with a significant look, "This one's been ready and willing for months and you've not even taken a taste. Tsk tsk."

She itches to reach out and smack him but instead just lifts her head, refusing to look away even though she feels herself blushing. "Is that supposed to convince me to give you _my_ dragon?"

His face falls, before he attempts a charming grin, "Now, Caroline. Let's not be hasty. I have plenty of money. Name your price."

"_I_ have plenty of money," Klaus interjects. "Which I generously allow you to use."

Kol's clearly about to protest but Caroline holds up her hand, "It was a gift anyway. Selling it would be tacky."

His expression turns cunning, "Perhaps I could borrow it? Once it's grown, you see. In return I'd be delighted to work some of my contacts, get you all the info on the care and feeding of dragons that your little perfectionist heart could possibly want."

She considers the offer, biting her lip. She _could_ use the help but she's pretty sure a dragon's not something she wants to trust Kol Mikaelson with. She likes New Orleans as it is and it would be a shame if he reduced it to a burned out husk in an attempt to go full Daenerys Targaryen.

Klaus has gathered the dragon into his palm while she and Kol took part in their stare off and it seems perfectly content to burrow into the skin left bare by the v-neck of his Henley, more of those soft little chirps coming from it as it nibbles at one of Klaus' necklaces. "Kol will help in any way you need, love. _Without_ strings."

They share a series of hard looks before Kol seems to cave, throwing up his hands. He grumbles something - Caroline thinks she hears the word whipped - and circles her desk to throw himself into her chair, head bent over his cell phone.

She leans against her desk, watching as Klaus' fingers stroke gently along the tiny dragon's back. "He'll need a name," Klaus notes.

"It's a he?" Caroline asks dubiously. How would one even _check_ that?

"Does the name really need to be gendered?" Klaus asks with a smirk.

Caroline supposed he had a point. Mythical creatures likely had loftier concerns. "I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't let Josie and Lizzie have a say."

He smiles, "I'm sure you're right. Opinionated little things that they are."

Caroline tosses him a glare that lacks heat, "Your child isn't the mellowest either, you know."

Klaus seems unperturbed, "They do come by it honestly."

"What's Hope up to tonight?"

"She'll be tucked into bed soon, I'd imagine. Elijah's favorite symphony is playing in Chicago and he, Hope and Hayley have an early flight tomorrow. Yours are off in the wilderness, correct?"

Caroline shifts her weight, suddenly nervous. Back in Mystic Falls she'd never expected to be casually talking to Klaus about childcare arrangements of all things. But this is her life now, and she loves it. Caroline can't help but think this weekend might be the opportunity she's been waiting for. "Do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow?" she rushes out. "Assuming I can get a dragon sitter."

Klaus smile is warm, his answer simple, "I thought you'd never ask."


	81. Canon Adjacent Mini-ish Drabbles

**Notes:** More of the mini-ish drabbles from Tumblr! These ones are all canon adjacent using the vampire/hybrid/witch stuff. Enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts and which ones you liked best! The first 3 are SFW the 4th is maybe a teeny bit NSFW and the last one is definitely NSFW.

**Send You The News**

**(Prompt: mini drabble prompt: Klaus &amp; Caroline secretly write letters/emails to each other after 5x11. Title from "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" by Stars. Rated T.)**

Damon walking into her dorm room, _without_ knocking, was an annoyance Caroline has (unfortunately) gotten used to. She's even come to find the happy little sigh Elena let out _every single time_ a tiny bit cute.

Just kidding, it was totally icky and she didn't bother to hide her rolling eyes. Not that either of the lovebirds ever noticed.

Caroline barely looks up from the section she's highlighting in her Biochem text as Damon starts yapping, though she grimaces at the soft squishy noises of PDA float over. Seriously, Damon had a whole _gigantic_ house a reasonable drive away. Did they have to get touchy feely in the room Elena _shared_?

She tunes them out until she hears the word _mail_.

Then Caroline's out of her seat, leaving her ergonomic chair spinning, and across the room at full vampire speed. She manages to snatch the pile of letters from Damon's hand before he can think to attempt to hold them out of her reach.

A good thing because she might have tried to draw a little blood before she could consider the consequences. Namely, ruining the rug and having to endure Elena pouting _long_ after Damon healed from his minor injuries.

Both Elena and Damon are staring at her with curious eyes though there's something Caroline doesn't like in Damon's icy blue eyes. Something that tells her she's not going to like whatever it is he decides to say next. She looks down and rifles through the letters quickly, hoping for a decent distraction.

One that'll give her a window to slip one of the envelopes addressed to her, the one made of heavy cream colored paper, into her back pocket without anyone noticing. Or commenting.

Really, it's the commenting that's always the problem. Damon never knows when to keep his mouth shut. Particularly about things that are _none_ of his business. Recognizing the familiar chicken scratch on one of the letters she holds it up, "Ooh, look! Something from Jer. Weren't you just saying it had been awhile, Elena?"

Elena hesitates, and Caroline prods a little harder, blinking innocently as she wiggles the letter, "Hey, it must be a good sign that he's writing right? Maybe he just got busy and that's the reason for the radio silence? I'm sure he's totally over that stoner phase and not bowing to peer pressure to suck back absinthe and psychedelics in the name of creativity."

A brief flash of horror crosses Elena's face and Caroline feels a momentary pang of guilt as she hands over the letter. Elena tears into it right away and begins scanning it, settling back onto her bed.

The guilt doesn't last long, however. Damon's still watching her, head tipped to the side, eyes narrowed shrewdly. He's assessing her, looking for a weakness and Caroline straightens her shoulders and meets his eyes steadily, refusing to act like she's done anything wrong.

They're just letters, entirely harmless, and they are _hers_.

If _Damon_ of all people has a problem with who she's writing to he can shove it.

He smirks, eyes the stack in her hand and Caroline tenses. His drawls out the question, easing forward the tiniest bit. "New pen pal, Barbie? Anyone we know?"

She tracks his movements warily, "I wouldn't say _new_."

It's an honest statement because she'd written to Klaus less than six weeks after he'd walked away from Mystic Falls. They've been corresponding regularly ever since. Caroline had kept it friendly, not mentioned the whole sex marathon thing. At the time Caroline hadn't really been willing to examine the reasons why she'd decided to open up the lines of communication. She'd been fine when Klaus had been in New Orleans, busy with adjusting to school at the supernatural weirdness Whitmore hid. But then he'd shown up, disarmingly easy to talk to as always, poking and prodding and messing with her carefully ordered life. She'd _thought_ she should have been relieved to see the back of him once he'd left, to know that he wouldn't be popping back up to throw her routines and plans out of whack, but that hadn't happened.

Several sleepless nights later she'd been forced to admit that relief wasn't at all what she'd felt.

Eventually, she'd worked up the courage to send him a letter. He'd casually mentioned that his address in New Orleans, the one she'd sent his graduation invite to, remained the same. In case she ever needed anything, he'd murmured, after brushing one last kiss over her cheek before he'd sped away.

Damon's expression turns knowing, "Ah. So an _old_ pen pal, then?"

"Old enough," Caroline bites out.

He opens his mouth, a light to his eyes that Caroline really doesn't like, but Elena lets out a small distressed groan. Mutters something about questionable tattoos. Caroline glances over to find her still pouring over Jeremy's letter and Damon instantly turns to see what the problem was.

Caroline made a mental note to buy the kid a drink next time he made it home for the holidays.

She sorts the rest of the mail quickly, tossing everything addressed to Bonnie and Elena on their respective beds before picking up her purse and stuffing Klaus' letter along with the rest of the envelopes bearing her name into it. She makes her way to the door. "I gotta meet my History group," she tells them.

A lie, that meet up isn't for another two hours. but Caroline's banking on the fact that Elena never pays that much attention to Caroline's schedule.

Elena waves absently and Caroline's just about to breathe a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, she's not in the clear yet, "Your old friend planning on stopping by?" Damon calls out, just before she can escape. "It's almost summer break. Maybe he wants a distraction? To sample small town life?"

Caroline's smile is cold when she turns to face him, "I doubt it. But if he does I'll make sure to introduce you first thing. I'm sure he'll just _love_ you."

Damon sobers, if only slightly, likely remembering just how big a fan of his Klaus isn't. "Maybe you should go to him, Barbie. Spread your wings."

Klaus has made a subtle suggestion or two along the same lines. Caroline would be lying if she'd claimed she hadn't considered it. "Maybe I will," she tells him, smile sweet and tone deceptively light. Elena's still lost in older sister fretting, no need to alarm her. "I've told him _so much_ in my letters, but some things are just easier to say in person, you know? A girl just needs a hug after sharing all her deep, dark secrets."

Damon's smart enough to hear the subtle threat if the slight tremble of his hands is anything to go by. It doesn't hurt to give Damon a little taste of his own medicine, treat him to a little discomfort since he delights in doing the same to others. It's not a threat she ever really plans to make good on.

At least not while Elena's still ass backwards in love with the cretin.

* * *

**Friends and Enemies**

**(Prompt:** "**How about one where Klaus introduces Caroline to Hope for the first time. Or a Hayley and Caroline bonding one and Klaus being creeped out about it lol!" This was written pre finale and was based on a set of spoilers that turned out to be false – namely that Bonnie would die and rule the realm she created and Damon would compel Elena and Stefan to forget the supernatural. Rated K+)**

Caroline's only half paying attention to the contract in front of her – she and this witch have been going back and forth over her desired employment terms for _weeks_ but it looks like they've finally come to an agreement – her hearing carefully tuned to what's going on around her. The twins are sprawled on a rug with Hope, deep in an intense game of Candyland (the Disney Princess edition). Josie tends to ascribe to a win at all costs mentality and has been known to be a little underhanded. Caroline might be able to relate (anyone who's ever played a board game with her knows she's a pro at trash talk) but she's trying to encourage a little sportsmanship while the girls are young enough for the lesson to stick.

If only because tiny tempers sometimes boiled over and became _big_ magical accidents. Hope was a sweet kid but fairly new, through no fault of her own, to the whole socialization thing. Plus, none of her relatives were what could even charitably be called even tempered (save perhaps Freya – Klaus had explained the sister popping up from the dead situation but Caroline had only met her once in passing) or well-adjusted so the fact that Hope even _tried_ to rein herself in was something of a miracle.

Nevertheless, the three of them had all sorts of power at their disposal and Caroline would rather not have her office bear the brunt of the damage they'd cause if a squabble escalated. Not when it had taken months to get everything renovated and just how she liked it.

The furnishings for the office wing had all come with the property and considering the property was Klaus' Caroline was sure the rug cost a pretty penny. The hardwood floors of her office were also original, and gorgeous once they'd been painstakingly restored, singeing them would be a crime.

She's also listening because she's expecting Klaus to show up sometime soon. She's got a pencil shoved into her hair, keeping it off her face, and that's not a look she wants him to see. She'd treated herself to a wardrobe upgrade when they'd first moved to New Orleans rationalizing that a move to a big city, _finally_, was the perfect occasion to update her style a little. Alaric had raised an eyebrow at the pile of bags he'd watched her unload from the car but had thankfully (and wisely) kept his mouth shut. She'd had a rationale all prepared – the climate _was_ different – but she'd been glad it hadn't been necessary. Alaric could read her alarmingly well these days and she had no desire to examine the reasons why she'd been determined to look her best.

They'd slapped her in the face easily enough on the first day of the term in September.

Because while Klaus hadn't commented on her attire either the frank appreciation in his eyes as he'd taken in her sleek grey dress and black leather pumps that first morning had said volumes.

The answering twinge of satisfaction she'd felt had let Caroline know that all the claims she'd made about not wanting to consider a romantic relationship right now, that she was far too busy and still getting used to a whole new life to open up that can of worms, might have been more bluster than truth.

Klaus hadn't pressed the issue, not overtly anyway. He was, however, not above making the most of opportunities presented to him. Hope staying behind, in Caroline's care, for an hour or two after school let out was not uncommon. She was unsure of how much of the urgent business Klaus claimed to have was legitimate because he seemed to have no problem lingering over the dinner he usually brought with him, ostensibly as a token of his gratitude. Caroline was pretty sure he was systematically making his way through the best restaurants in New Orleans and that he was probably compelling or bribing some of them into providing kid friendly options but she wasn't going to complain.

He'd promised her food was one of New Orleans' best attributes, once upon a time, and he certainly hadn't been wrong about that.

She perks up when she hears footsteps though it's only for a moment. Then Caroline grows wary, tense.

That's not Klaus' tread, it's lighter and not as smooth. The gait does not belonging to any of Caroline's few friends and acquaintances. She pushes away from her desk, palming her silver letter opener as she rounds it, to stand between the door and the girls. The buildings the school operates on are all spelled. Each of the nine local covens had contributed and Caroline had asked Bonnie to do so as well on one of her visits.

Turns out that knowing an all-powerful badass witch who could pop between dimensions was _super_ handy.

Someone with bad intentions shouldn't make it very far but Caroline knew that magic was rarely foolproof, and she'd been burned before. She keeps her posture relaxed so she doesn't alarm the kids (Lizzie's remarkably empathetic) but eyes the door suspiciously.

She's gotten her hands dirty to protect the girls before. She'd do it again in a heartbeat.

There's a brief knock before the doorknob turns and Caroline's momentarily relieved at the familiar head that pops through the door.

Only momentarily.

Caroline was a master grudge holder and Hayley Marshall wasn't currently one of her favorite people. Caroline could admit that it seemed as if she'd do anything for Hope, and she'd heard a few brief stories that made it seem like Hayley's life post Mystic Falls hadn't been a cake walk, but Caroline remains guarded.

A snapped neck and betrayal will do that to a girl.

Still, she could be polite. It _was_ technically her job to make nice with her student's parents. She pastes on a smile and shifts to the side, tossing the letter opener back on the desk. Hayley watches her de-arm with a raised eyebrow, and _maybe_ a brief flash of respect. "Hey. I guess you're on pickup duty?"

The girls have barely glanced up, too intent on their game.

Hayley takes a tentative step further in, "Yeah, Elijah texted me. He and Klaus are trying to collect Kol but not having a ton of luck. I'm clear on the details but I'm sure Klaus will fill you in. You guys have to talk about something when you have your _casual_ dinners, right? I'm supposed to, 'Convey Niklaus' deepest apologies for his tardiness and thank Ms. Forbes for her understanding.'"

Caroline blinks for a moment, finds she wants to smile a bit at Hayley's deeply pompous inflection, "Uh, okay."

"I'd bet Klaus will make it up to you," Hayley says, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "That it would be his pleasure."

Yeah, Caroline was so not willing to go there. She missed quality girl talk but not _that_ badly. "Well, he gave me a house to run the school in so I figure I'm the one who owes him."

Hayley's snort is incredulous, "Oh, please. He would have given you _ten_ houses to get you here. He was pissy that you insisted on fixing up the outbuildings and living on the grounds instead of somewhere nicer and closer to the compound. He was a real bitch to live with that week, let me tell you."

They hear a tiny gasp and Caroline glances behind them. Lizzie and Josie are looking a little wide eyed. Hayley appears chagrined, "Whoops, sorry. Language."

Caroline waves that away, "Don't worry about it."

It seems like the game's been forgotten and Hope bounces to her feet, "Mom, hi!"

Hayley runs a hand through Hope's hair, her face softening, "Get your things, okay?"

Lizzie and Josie help and soon Hope's got her schoolbooks crammed into her backpack, shoes and jacket on. They're just beginning to say their goodbyes (drawn out since it was a weekend, basically forever to a pair of 5 year olds and a 7 year old) when Caroline hears the familiar noise that Bonnie makes when she propels herself through dimensions. It's sort of a weird cracking, and while Caroline's used to it, welcomes it even, Hayley goes rigid, shoving Hope behind her, her fangs dropping. Caroline throws herself in front of Hayley before she can think to lunge – Bonnie can take care of herself but Caroline doesn't want to clean up blood any more than she wants to deal with fire. "It's fine!" she rushes out, shoving Hayley back slightly. "You remember my friend Bonnie, right? She poofs in sometimes. It's a long story."

"Poofs?" Hayley asks, still eyeing Bonnie like she's a threat. "Since when do witches poof?"

"She's not just a witch. Not anymore. It's complicated but she's kind of like the devil? Only nice. Well, nice-ish.

"Thanks, Care," Bonnie says dryly.

Caroline ignores her, "And she doesn't eat souls. She brings them to her happy little paradise place totally toll free."

Hayley's obviously skeptical and Caroline can't really blame her. "Are you high?"

Caroline huffs out an offended breath, "Yeah, I get high in front of my children. That's how I roll. Doesn't Klaus tell you anything?"

Hayley shrugs, "We don't do heart to hearts."

Hope peeks out from behind Hayley's back, makes an annoyed face when she doesn't get far before Hayley blocks her, "It's true, Mom. Miss Bennett teaches us sometimes."

Josie and Lizzie have wandered over and wrapped themselves around Bonnie's legs, "Yeah, Aunt Bon's the best," Lizzie tells Hayley.

"You can ask Klaus," Caroline tells her. "Seriously. I've explained how everything went down."

"Have you?" Bonnie asks, sounding speculative, "What happened to, 'I'm not moving to New Orleans for Klaus?' Have you been taking long walks in the woods? Discussing the best methods of tree removal, maybe?"

Caroline glares, the innuendo not lost on her even if it probably is on everyone else in the room. She'd gotten a little drunk and a lot overshare-y once and Bonnie had never let her forget it. She waves her hands, nods over to her paper strewn desk, "Um, hello. Look around. I do plenty here that has _nothing_ to do with Klaus. Wrangling three dozen kids of various supernatural backgrounds and half a dozen staff isn't easy, FYI."

"Mmm, yeah," Hayley interjects slyly, "You work _very_ hard. Must be why Klaus takes it upon himself to bring you dinner every night."

"It's not _every_ night," Caroline denies, wincing as her voice rises in pitch. _That _wasn't going to make them believe her.

Hayley glances over at Bonnie, "She won't agree to anything else. Klaus thinks he's being sneaky and getting around her refusal to date."

Bonnie's eyebrows have steadily crept up and Caroline knows she's got some explaining to do. Ugh, good thing it was Alaric's weekend to have the girls. She'd totally need booze to withstand this interrogation. "Thanks so much, Hayley," Caroline manages, her tone dripping with faux sweetness, "for all your help."

Hayley seems unbothered. "No problem. Klaus usually goes to the bar on Fridays, in case you were wondering. You know the one."

Caroline grits her teeth to refrain from spitting out that she _had_ known that. Klaus had mentioned it, his not so innocent assertion that they stocked an excellent selection of champagnes less than subtle. Hayley ushers Hope out the door, the girl waving at the twins once more before she departs.

Caroline turns from Bonnie, knowing she can only stall so long, clapping her hands together, "Alright! Girls, put the game away, please. Make sure you get all the pieces because I am sure you'll want to play it this weekend."

The scurry to collect the various parts, stowing them carefully under Caroline's watchful gaze. "Do you have wine?" Bonnie asks lowly. "Because we're going to need it. I can poof somewhere and get some?"

"I do. And bourbon," Caroline answers. "But maybe get the things for cookie dough?" Sugar always made awkward conversations better, in her opinion.

"On it," Bonnie murmurs, and soon she's gone again.

The girls look up, faces etched in disappointment. Caroline smiles warmly, "Aunt Bonnie will be back in a bit, babies. You'll see her later, promise."

It would be a momentary distraction for Bonnie, Caroline knew, and she'd have all sorts of questions about Klaus and what Caroline was doing (or considering doing) about him.

Caroline wasn't sure that Bonnie would like the answers but that was okay. Caroline knew that Bonnie trusted her to make her own decisions, even if she thought they were mistakes. Bonnie hadn't been thrilled to go to Caroline's ill-fated wedding a few years back but in the end she'd shown up. It was just the two of them now, Stefan and Elena and Matt all living human lives, Damon in the wind and so many others long gone. They'd figure it out.

Back then Caroline had been clinging to her human dreams, had them in a death grip because she'd felt them slipping away. It's different now, she's different now, learning more and more about the supernatural world became a necessity when she and Alaric had opened the school and it's no longer foreign and scary but exciting, filled with possibilities and new experiences to be chased.

Possibilities had been what Klaus had offered her, years and years ago, and Caroline thought she might be nearly ready to explore a few of them.

Maybe she'd drag Bonnie out for drinks once Josie and Lizzie were safely with Alaric. And if they happened to run into some familiar faces what's the worst that could happen? Bonnie and Klaus were both pretty much un-killable and Klaus could afford to cover any and all property damage.

As long as it wasn't _her_ office Caroline could deal.

* * *

**Nothing But Blue Skies**

**(Prompt: "I really love all of the other relationships you develop for Caroline in that story as well, particularly the brotp with Kol! So as an idea for a drabble, would you be open to writing about an adventure or two that they go on?" Title from "Love Is A Place" by Metric. Rated K+)**

She's talking – okay fine, _flirting_ \- with Klaus when the call comes in. Her phone's resting on the café table between them. It's a cute little French inspired place that served killer pastries, and she and Klaus end up here a couple times a week. Glancing at the number she recognizes the New Orleans area code but it's not a number she has programmed into her cell.

Klaus, however, recognizes it instantly.

"Why is Kol calling you?" he asks, curiosity and maybe a tinge of suspicion evident. She's not offended, has gleaned enough info on the Mikaelson family dynamics to realize that suspicion is Klaus' default setting where Kol's involved. And that Kol usually deserves it.

Caroline shrugs in response, clueless. She hasn't had more than half a dozen conversations with Kol since she'd moved to New Orleans and they mostly involved a battle of wills. He leers and tosses pervy innuendos about things she could do to help with Klaus' temper. She tries her very hardest to resist the urge to test the strength of her fist against his face. "I honestly have no idea. Should I answer it?"

Klaus appears weary but resigned, "Probably not."

She does it anyway. Sue her, she's curious.

"Caroline," Kol whines, immediately after she says hello. "I'm stuck."

Well, that was a weird opener. She exchanges a baffled look with Klaus who's listening intently. "Uh, I really have no idea how that concerns me."

Kol's sigh is loud, "Have you spoken to the lovely Miss Bennett lately?"

"Not since she emailed me last night. She's supposed to text me when she needs me to pick her up from the airport. Flights from where she was are apparently super wonky."

"Right, well from what I gathered she was early. Had a bit of a phone mishap. Stopped by the bar because she knows you come here often and your direction was stored in her malfunctioning phone. Technology. So touchy."

Caroline bounces in her seat, excited. She'd been looking forward to this visit for months. "Is Bonnie there? Let me talk to her."

"Focus on me, darling."

"Do I have to?"

Kol ignores her snark, "I happened to be here when she arrived, sought to reintroduce myself…" he trails off his voice pitched too innocent to be believable.

She' glances over at Klaus to find him more relaxed, an amused smile playing about his lips. She raises an eyebrow in question, "Kol's never been able to resist a pretty witch. And your friend's less susceptible to his charm than most, I'd wager."

Understatement.

"Wait, what do you mean, stuck?" Caroline asks, remembering Kol's initial words.

"It's not a complex word now, is it?"

She grinds her teeth together, a common response to Kol, "Well if it's so _simple_ why are you calling little ol' me?"

He does a good approximation of contrition but lays it on way too thick. "Because you're the kindest of souls, the most benevolent of spirits."

Klaus laughs at that, loud and disbelieving, "He must be in _quite_ a bind."

Kol's still talking, preventing her from doing much more than tossing Klaus an unimpressed glare. "…and I need you to sweet talk the little witch into releasing me. This stool is dreadfully uncomfortable. It'd be a shame if my posterior was permanently flattened, wouldn't it?"

"You're stuck to a stool?"

"A rickety one. And the bartender refuses to even serve me another drink. Says my tab is long overdue."

That she could believe. "I don't know Kol. Bonnie's stubborn. Maybe you should just call Freya?"

He groans, sounding miffed. "She was here. And is completely useless. Has clearly been learning family loyalty from _Nik_. She's playing darts with my tormentor as we speak. My own sister, honestly."

She glances over to find Klaus had pulled his phone out and is tapping away at the screen. She's a little dubious herself, Freya was nothing but loyal from what Caroline had observed, it had been a little intimidating when they'd first been introduced and she'd informed Caroline that she'd once seen her in Klaus' mind.

Come to think of it, he'd still never explained what _that_ was about.

She's distracted by Klaus letting out another sound of amusement, "I think you'd best leave him there to stew for a bit, love. I suspect there will be no sweet talking your friend."

Kol begins to sputter a protest but Caroline cuts him off, "Ah, so you totally deserve to be stuck to a stool then? I mean, I kind of assumed but I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. Since I'm so very _benevolent_."

"I will pay you," Kol grits out.

"Please. You can't even pay your bar tab," Caroline snipes back, just before she ends the call. ""He's going to try to make me pay for that later."

"Perhaps we should make it worth it?" Klaus asks, shooting her a sly look from across the table.

"I'm listening."

"It's nearly 6. Late enough for a proper drink, even for upstanding school mistress types, is it not?"

She heaves a long suffering sigh, though it's probably ruined by the small smile that she can't press down at Klaus' mischievous expression. Cracking jokes about the sort of uses she and Klaus could put her desk to (and occasionally things like rulers) was one of Kol's favorite ways to annoy Caroline. Whatever Klaus has in mind should allow her a little payback.

Something Caroline's a big fan of. Especially since she _hated_ that she sometimes blushed, that Kol's suggestions flitted through her brain at the most inopportune times.

"You want to go the bar and point and laugh at your brother?"

"And give the Bennett witch the opportunity to glare and threaten me. I think she enjoys it, you know."

Caroline thought so too. She's also glad that it sounds like Bonnie might hit it off with Freya. If ever there was a woman who needed a couple of female friends to get away from the crazy she was surrounded with it was Freya. She smiles at Klaus, ducks to dig her wallet out of her purse. He wants to protest but she eyes him severely and he stays silent as she tosses enough money to cover the coffee and the chocolate croissants they'd ordered.

It's useless because she knows he'll sneak and pay for her drinks at the bar. She doesn't know what Klaus has on the staff their – though she's working on finding out – but they flat out refuse to take her money. She does her best to snatch the bill everywhere else – it just makes Caroline feel better. If Klaus wants to take her out on a date, do the whole chivalrous check paying thing, he can freaking _ask_ her on one already.

Honestly, what is he waiting for?

She's pulled from her thoughts when Klaus unfolds himself from his chair, offers to help her into her jacket. She's pretty sure the way his fingers linger on her shoulders is deliberate and she refuses to react, allows him usher her out of the café with his hand on her back.

He starts to talk as they head in the bar's direction, a story about another pretty witch Kol had gotten on the wrong side of, the lengths they'd had to go to undo the unfortunate – and so embarrassing Caroline was sorry the incident predated photography – curses that had been laid on him.

She finds herself laughing, leaning into Klaus' side slightly, her fingers brushing his. He makes no move to take them, to tangle their hands together, and she pushes away the slight pang of annoyance.

_This _was nice and she and Klaus had nothing but time.

* * *

**Keep Doing That Forever**

**(Prompt: "kc + original!caroline + intimate? it doesn't have to be smut, just intimacy please and thank you." Title from "The First Five Times" by Stars. Rated M-ish to be safe for some near smut.)**

The blankets on their bed are already turned down when Caroline enters the bedroom and she glances at them longingly for a moment. The temptation to crawl in, bury her head under a pillow, and finally relax, is great. Soon, she tells herself, heading towards her dressing table. She can hear Klaus in the closet, the rustle of fabric faintly audible as he undresses. She hears his clothes land in the hamper and smiles, pleased. There were many nights when what they wore during the day - or the scraps that remained - ended up strewn across the floor and Caroline only complained if something she'd particularly loved ended up destroyed. At least, she didn't complain _now_. After years of traveling light and neat, running from Mikael, Klaus had at first gotten a little too comfortable once he'd died, let his things spread out liberally in their private quarters and in his studio.

Caroline had bitten her tongue, content to watch him relish in his ability to relax after centuries of carrying the weight of keeping them safe.

Until, drowsy from a long night of _not_ sleeping, her limbs heavy with satiation, in search of a shower to wash away the scent of sex and blood on her skin, she'd tripped over a pair of Klaus' boots.

And he'd _laughed_ at her.

He'd attempted to hide it, of course. Caroline never would have consented to marry an idiot and the past thousand years had honed Klaus' survival instincts to a fine edge. Still, those same years had taught her to read him, she knew his softest sounds, his smallest tells and no pillow could muffle the laughter he'd tried to keep silent.

She'd turned to pin him with the full force of her angry glare and it had only cracked his control further until his body and their bed had shaken with the force of his mirth.

She'd tossed him a few choice words in their native tongue as she'd stormed out, slept in a guest bedroom until Klaus had managed to earn her forgiveness with the clever use of his mouth and a very pretty necklace. He'd made a point to be neater ever since.

Klaus comes up behind Caroline just as she's finishing removing her makeup, several wipes discarded, her face bare. He's got a half drunk tumbler of bourbon in his hand, his hair mussed from his hands. She lets her eyes drift over his torso, from the newly inked birds on his shoulder to the low slung waistband of the tuxedo pants he still wears. He hands her the glass, bends to press a kiss to the nape of her neck, "Excellent party, love. As always."

She hums, holding his eyes as she sips, "I think we'll have to kill fewer people than anticipated. Kol will be displeased."

She feels him smile against her skin, before he pulls back. His hands remain, drawing a light caress up her neck. "He'll be distracted by the witches soon enough. The covens of New Orleans seem even more hostile than the rest of their kind. I'm sure Kol will enjoy the challenge. He does like the chase."

"Sounds familiar," Caroline teases, bending her head slightly to the side as Klaus eases her earring off. A thousand years ago she'd had no interest in a marriage at seventeen and her father's willingness to indulge his only daughter had been limitless. Klaus had decided she was his when he'd first laid eyes on her across a bonfire, despite the fact that he'd been wrapped around a doppelganger at the time.

Caroline had taken some convincing.

Klaus reaches over and sets the earring down, his fingers absently rubbing away the ache in her lobe before he takes care of the other. He then begins on her hair, gently extracting the myriad of pins keeping the thick curls up, carefully combing through the tangles made by the hairspray she'd applied. "Chasing you was an excellent decision," he tells her, climbing over the bench and lifting her into his lap. "One of my very best."

Caroline's not about to argue with him, as much fun as that is. It's been a very long day, filled with mishaps and incompetent minions (only one of which she'd eaten, though she's fairly sure Rebekah hadn't been so circumspect) and she's tired. Still, she _wants _him, plans to have him before she sleeps. Caroline figures she might as well conserve her energy. Her eyes flutter shut, leaning into his touch with a contented moan as his talented fingers massage her scalp. She takes another sip, savoring the slight burn of the alcohol and the familiar warmth of Klaus at her back, shifts her hips slightly when she feels his cock stiffening under her.

She takes great pleasure in the tension that creeps into his frame, the gasp he swallows. When her hair's falling in soft waves down her back she rests her head on his shoulder, slowly opening her eyes to find him watching her hungrily in the mirror. The gold that rings his pupils is still new, thrilling, and Caroline shivers as his hands drift over the silk that covers her ribs. She licks her lips, sets the glass aside before reaching up, curling her arm behind his neck. "The zipper's on the side. _Don't _rip it."

Klaus complies eagerly, rolling the fabric down to her waist, filling his palms with her breasts. Her dress hits the floor whole though the corset, garter and panties she'd been wearing beneath it aren't so lucky.

She's too distracted to notice while he's stripping her undergarments from her, Klaus' mouth hot on her neck and his fingers curling inside of her as he urges her to pull on her nipples and watch herself come apart in the mirror.

The next morning, while her and Klaus laze in bed, Caroline spots them, the bright red lace stark against their plush white rug. She makes an aggravated noise, poking his side sharply. "We're going shopping today," she informs him. "_Serious_ shopping."

"Mmm, how new and different," he replies, voice scratchy with sleep, curling his body more firmly around hers.

He doesn't see her narrowing eyes, or pursed lips, misses the telltale signs that a truly evil plan has occurred to her entirely.

She really must have worn him out.

An afternoon of watching her try on increasingly daring lingerie, during which he would _not _be permitted to touch her (though perhaps she'd text him pictures of her touching herself in the fitting room?), _should _make Klaus think twice before he attacks her underwear.

And if it didn't? They could always repeat the lesson. Caroline was sure it was going to be _fun_.

* * *

**Takes You Over**

**(Prompt:** "**future!Klaroline + sex pollen/accidental aphrodisiac spell + werewolf sex is rougher around the full moon (and made worse by sex pollen/spell) trope." Title from "Out of Control" by She Wants Revenge. SMUT)**

A shot glass is put in her hand and Caroline throws it back without even thinking about it, too busy glaring (while acting like she's completely unbothered – no easy feat) at Klaus and his ever widening circle of admirers across the room.

She was pretty sure she was about to witness some leg humping and yet she couldn't look away.

Her throat burns as she swallows, but not in the way that she's used to. It's cold and scratchy all the way down her throat, an odd sensation. The taste of the shot is weird too, herbaceous almost, and her attention is pulled from Klaus and his groupies as she fights a gag. She looks up to find the bartender, a witch Caroline's become friendly-ish with (mostly because the first time she'd come to this bar had been during one of Bonnie's visits) watching her with great interest. She panics wondering if maybe she's misread the situation terribly and the witch has actually been planning to murder Caroline all along.

That would be just her luck.

"What was that?" she demands, slamming the shot glass down on the bar top so hard it shatters, shards digging into her fingertips.

The smile she's offered is enigmatic but not malicious. "A local specialty. A helping hand, if you will. And it's on the house."

She's about to ask what that even _means_ when she feels Klaus at her side, his fingers circling her wrist. She shivers at the contact, swaying slightly on her feet. When Caroline turns to look at him his eyes are hard, flitting between the blood dripping from her hand and the bartender. "What happened?"

The bartender's response is quiet, her Greek too rapid for Caroline to catch. She's only lived here for a couple months and her language skills are still hovering at the remedial level. A fact that she's regretting right about now given how still Klaus has gone, the dangerous edge she can hear in his reply, even if the meaning of his words is lost on her. She's beginning to feel light headed, her heartbeat picking up and a familiar heat building. It's low in her belly and insistent, has Caroline pressing her thighs together and doing her best not to visibly squirm. She's honestly not sure she'd be able to focus on the conversation happening even if it was in good ol' English.

Bright side? She didn't think she was going to die unless death by horniness was a thing. Caroline was only pissed that she was so transparent, that the heated glares she'd been sending Klaus' way since he'd strolled back into her life two weeks ago had been noted and accurately assessed. That the witch had apparently thought her too much of a coward to act on her desires and had decided to give her a giant shove.

Klaus is still speaking, quiet and menacing; a tone that Caroline would bet usually precedes someone losing their head so she reaches out and grabs his forearm. His attention is immediately pulled to her, eyes assessing and a touch concerned. "All right, sweetheart?"

She licks her lips, unable to help focusing on his. She sways forward, her grip on him tightening, the crowd melting away. "I think we need to get out of here. Like, now."

Klaus growls out something that sounds like a threat but his arm winds around her waist and they're outside in a matter of moments. The cool night air, the faint tang of salt in it, is a welcome relief to Caroline's overheated skin. She sucks in a deep breath but control is out of reach and she can't remember why she shouldn't touch him. Caroline steps into Klaus, her hands sneaking under his shirt as she runs her nose up the line of his throat. She lets out a moan and he goes rigid but he doesn't push her away. "She drugged you," he tells her gruffly.

"Yeah, I got that." She's not an idiot, she put the pieces together just fine. Caroline presses her mouth to his throat, tastes his skin as her nails scratch down his back. Klaus' body's a solid, unmoving line against her and he doesn't even seem to be breathing. She scrapes her teeth over the dip in his collarbone and is gratified by his slight twitch in reaction, "I'll be pissed later."

"I can snap your neck," Klaus offers.

Caroline can't help the giggle that slips out. "Points for selflessness, Klaus but come on. If I didn't want you I would have packed my bags and left when you showed up. This was always going to happen."

That seems to be all Klaus needs. She's in his arms, her legs curled over his hips and her back against the wall before she can suck in another breath. She grasps his hair, attempts to tug his mouth to hers but Klaus thwarts her, catching her hands and trapping them against the wall. His expression is strained, his lips wet and Caroline wants to _bite_ them. "Tomorrow's the full moon."

She's no stranger to werewolves, the way their appetites wax and wane, and it only takes a second for Klaus' meaning to sink in. It makes her hotter, the muscles in her thighs tightening in an attempt to get Klaus closer. She rubs herself against him shamelessly, her head thrown back against the wall. The scrap of underwear she'd worn under her dress is soaked, the lace abrading her sensitive folds, a teasing hint of the friction she craves. He swallows heavily and she watches the movement of his throat avidly, "This isn't how I planned this," he mutters, almost to himself.

She's not the slightest bit surprised that he's been plotting. He's hinted as much the few times their paths had crossed over the years, slipped subtle and not so subtle suggestions into conversations. At some point she'd started tossing her own at him, much to Klaus' evident delight.

"I had plans of my own."

His brows rise, "Oh? Do tell me more."

She shakes her head, "Later. You tell me yours. We can fight over who goes first. I vote me."

He makes a rough noise in response, leaning in to kiss her. She opens her mouth under the first hot swipe of his tongue, sucking it into her mouth as the rolling of her hips turn frantic. Klaus begins to move with her, letting her body fall so the angle is better, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her just right. She rips her mouth away with a gasp and Klaus' chuckle is low and dirty, his mouth shifting to her ear. "Deal. I can _smell_ how wet you are, Caroline. It's _delicious_. I can't wait to taste it."

She shudders, closing her eyes, her nails digging into her palms. She's not sure how much of this is whatever she's been dosed with and how much of it is Klaus but it's so good, her muscles twitching and sparks flying up her spine every time his zipper grinds against her clit. And she hasn't even touched him yet, they're still wearing most of their clothes and her hands are trapped against the wall. This is the best kind of magic and she'd totally be up for experimenting with more. _Many_ times, just to be sure. "Keep talking," she mutters.

His lips stretch into a smile and she's sure it's dripping with smugness, even though she can only feel it pressed against her throat. He bites down with blunt teeth and she jolts, presses her lips together to keep from begging for fangs.

She will later, she's sure. No need to cave quite so soon.

Caroline's muscles begin to tense and Klaus makes a soft, soothing sound. "I'll have you here, love. From behind, your skirt around your waist as you drink from my wrist. After you've come for me just like this."

God, she's never come from dry humping, didn't think it was really possible. She's never been quite so happy to be wrong, loves the ache building where they're pressed together. Klaus continues, his tone deceptively mild as he does his best to drive her insane, "I think I'll wait for a bed to get my mouth between your thighs. I want to watch you writhe while you rip at the sheets, claw at the mattress. To push you to the edge with only my tongue on your clit until your voice breaks while you curse me."

She's breathless, the images he's painting for her making her head spin. "That's not very nice of me," she manages. "Totally bad guest behavior."

His laugh is gravelly, "You're not a nice girl, Caroline. I've always enjoyed that about you." She can't work up even an ounce of offense, not with the way he says it. Matter of fact and tinged with filthy promise that Caroline's going to make him follow through on.

He continues to speak, growing hoarse as his mouth teases her neckline. "The bed at my hotel is _very_ large and I've imagined you spread on it since I first walked in. Wrapped my fist around my cock and imagined you in your apartment across town. Have you touched yourself and thought of me?"

Her affirmative is little more than a gasp and her back arches, a silent hint for more. Klaus sucks on her nipple through her dress for a moment before he pulls away, resting his forehead against hers. "Excellent," he drawls. "Will you let me watch you, Caroline? Let me see how you stroke yourself, learn the exact pressure you like on your clit? I remember you were so sensitive after you'd come. How you squirmed under the lightest pressure of my tongue. Shall we test that, love? I promise to be a _diligent_ student."

Yep, definitely a fantasy she'd had. Often. Last night even, biting into her hand to keep quiet while she had her vibrator turned way up. She has no doubt Klaus will make the most of any lesson, considering just how good he's done with instinct and skill. Intimate knowledge will make him lethal to her self-control. Caroline nods, her hips moving fast and frantic as her climax builds.

"Good," Klaus rasps. "You're almost there, aren't you? Just a little more. What do you need, love?"

"Harder," Caroline groans, rolling her hips as quickly as she can.

One last firm thrust from Klaus and the waves begin, shuddering through every single one of her limbs, a high pitched cry ripped from her throat. He immediately sets Caroline on her shaky legs and turns her, the strength of his arms the only thing keeping her upright. She hears his belt jingle, thinks something's ripped but he's pressed against her back, his cock hot and hard against her ass. She's tilting her hips even as the last shockwaves of her orgasm roll over her, propping unsteady arms against the brick she's leaning against. He's inside of her in one slick movement, offering her his wrist. "Bite," he grits out, planting his free hand next to her head to brace them. "Drink. And touch yourself. I need you to come on my cock."

She nearly does when she tastes him, takes a greedy gulp of his blood even as her hand drifts down her stomach to do as he's urged.

It's going to be quick, Klaus is tense behind her, his motions rough but just what she needs. He's breathing heavily against her shoulder, his arm faintly trembling.

Caroline doesn't mind if this round is short. She's been promised a bed and she's certain they'll make the most of it.


	82. All Human Mini-ish Drabbles

**Notes: **Oops, I forgot to upload these here! There from my mini drabble streak a couple weeks back, previously posted on Tumblr. This batch is All Human, the first one contains smut but the other 3 are sfw.

**Good Old Fashioned Rivalry**

**(Prompt:** **rival competitive chorus conductor au + "last year i made a bet with you that my students would beat yours in the rankings this year i didn't think you'd actually REMEMBER fuck you won" SMUT).**

Her phone buzzes on her coffee table and Caroline glares at it resentfully. She's got a pretty good idea about just who's texting her. She'd turned down Kat's offer to go out and drown her post-loss sorrows and Bon's out of town. Few of her other acquaintances would reach out at this time on a Friday evening.

Ugh, couldn't he have at least waited a _day_? Give her a little time to lick her wounds in peace so she could at least _pretend_ to be gracious? She'd been so sure her programme was a winner, had drilled the kids mercilessly for weeks. It _had_ paid off and their performance had been nearly flawless. They'd all been so pleased with themselves, beaming and bouncing as they'd made their way back to their seats. To lose by a measly tenth of a point had been heartbreaking and Caroline was already planning to bring 'Cheer up, you're awesome!' cupcakes on Monday and let them go wild at rehearsal, high on sugar and songs from Disney scores.

They deserved a break though apparently _she_ didn't merit one.

_Why_ had she made that stupid bet? And why couldn't the drinks she and Klaus had shared afterwards have worked their magic and made him forget it? If only they'd had a few more. Caroline certainly wished she could forget those minutes she'd spent on his lap in the back of the cab they'd shared. Remembering - how he'd smelled, the breathy way he'd rasped her name, the greed of his fingertips - had proven to be a curse over the last few months.

She'd replayed those minutes they'd spent together in her mind _way_ too often. Caroline told herself, often and insistently, that she wasn't disappointed that things had ended prematurely, before things could get all that interesting or irrevocable. Klaus' hands had lingered on her thighs, just brushing her panties instead of slipping underneath, a frustrating tease that had left Caroline panting into his mouth. The driver had interrupted them, screeching to a stop and barking out a demand for payment. Jarred and embarrassed, carefully avoiding the heated look that hadn't left Klaus' eyes at the interruption, she'd scrambled from the cab. Caroline had straightened her skirt and scurried inside with a hasty goodnight tossed over her shoulder before Klaus could say anything.

If she'd given him the chance to talk she probably would have invited him in. And that would have been bad.

Too often Caroline found herself watching his hands at competitions instead of doing her job and paying attention to his choir. If they'd gone further? She'd never be able to keep her composure in his presence and it would be a disaster.

God, he'd be so smug if he knew.

Another text comes through and she groans, letting her head thump back into the couch. She's not surprised, Klaus is nothing if not persistent. That's what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She digs her spoon into her pint of ice cream, unearths a fortifying chunk of peanut butter cup and reaches for her phone.

**Pure Dimpled Evil [8:47 PM]:** Does tomorrow night work for you? What time shall I pick you up?

**Pure Dimpled Evil [8:51 PM]:** Don't tell me you're welching, Ms. Forbes. Whatever would the little ones say?

**Pure Dimpled Evil [8:52 PM]:** Aren't you supposed to set an example? Embody the spirit of sportsmanship or some such nonsense?

Ugh, she was going to need more than ice cream. She totally should have stopped and gotten wine. Maybe even gin.

**Caroline [8:53 PM]:** I'm not going to be mentioning any bets to my students. You probably shouldn't either. It won't look so good to your fancy helicopter parents that you're getting dates through nefarious means, will it?

**Pure Dimpled Evil [8:54]:** Nefarious? Hardly. You agreed quite readily. So certain you'd be victorious. I did enjoy the confidence, sweetheart, but you've no one to blame for your predicament but yourself. Besides, I've noted a certain inclination to win at all costs amongst my choir's parents. I dare say they'd approve of my methods.

That last point, Caroline could grudgingly concede, was probably correct. The prep school Klaus taught at charged astronomical tuition fees and she'd glimpsed more sternness and scrutiny than enjoyment or encouragement from the few parents who bothered to attend choral competitions. And okay, fine, she _had_ made the bet willingly. Klaus might have goaded but that was no excuse. He was just an aggravating person in general, delighted in pushing her buttons. She really should just stop letting him.

Even if it was kinda fun.

**Caroline [8:59 PM]:** Sunday. Brunch.

**Pure Dimpled Evil [9:00 PM]:** Now, now I specified a proper date. Brunch does not qualify.

**Caroline [9:00 PM]:** Brunch dates are a thing!

**Pure Dimpled Evil [9:01 PM]:** I'm sure they're not. Brunch is for old married couples or out of town relatives that you don't particularly like. A date is dinner. Somewhere with low lighting and good drinks.

**Caroline [9:02 PM]:** Planning on getting me drunk enough to find you charming? Better bring your credit card.

**Pure Dimpled Evil [9:03 PM]:** Ouch, love. I'd be offended if you weren't lying through your pearly teeth.

Her jaw drops, and she sets her ice cream aside. A quick glance tells her it's becoming a melty mess, her conversation with Klaus having distracted her from eating.

**Caroline [9:05 PM]:** Excuse you, I am not.

**Pure Dimpled Evil [9:05 PM]:** You'd never have made the bet if you weren't willing to go out with me, Caroline. You tried your hardest to win because you loathe losing but I'd wager you're not all that disappointed in the outcome, are you?

She's really trying to be but Caroline can grudgingly admit, alone in the privacy of her apartment, that she might have a teeny fleet of butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of going on a date with Klaus. The good kind. They have serious chemistry, he's annoyingly charming, and distractingly hot. He's also far too aware of his positive qualities so she's not going to make it easy on him.

**Caroline [9:06 PM]: **Nope, sorry. I actually just really wanted to win.

**Pure Dimpled Evil [9:07 PM]:** Alright, then I suppose I misconstrued things. Best of luck next time. Until we meet again, Caroline.

She stares down at her screen for several long moments, the typed words slow to penetrate.

Wait, _what_?

Was she missing something? Caroline is baffled by his abrupt shift to formality. She expects more, for those three little dots that mean Klaus us tapping out some longer reply to pop up on her screen. But there's nothing and Caroline finds herself making a call.

He picks up on the third ring, sounding guarded, "Hello?"

"'Until we meet again?'" she spits out incredulously. "Could you _be_ any more dramatic?"

"Likely, if I put the effort in. Would you perhaps like to offer some tips?"

Caroline ignores the mild dig, "What does that even _mean_?"

Klaus reply is measured, maddeningly patient, as if they're barely acquaintances. "It means that I imagine we'll not see each other until our paths cross again at the next meet. I believe it's next month though the precise date escapes me."

"What about…"

"I've no need to coerce a woman into dating me, love."

She makes a noise, one that doesn't even come close to being a word at all, pulls her phone away from her ear to glare at it. Was he calling her bluff here?

So annoying.

"Come over," she finds herself blurting out.

He's hesitant and she finds that it hurts a little. "Caroline…"

She hadn't exactly _meant_ to say it but now that it's out there she has no desire to take it back. "Do you remember where my apartment is?"

"Yes, but…"

Caroline cuts him off, "You're right, okay? And I'm probably literally never going to say that again so enjoy it this one time."

His tone warms up considerably and Caroline's reasonably sure he's smiling, "Is that a yes to dinner?"

"Tomorrow. At 7," Caroline agrees.

"Perhaps I'll not need to pick you up, hmm? I'll see you in twenty minutes."

He hangs up before she can say anything else and Caroline sets her phone aside, smiling in a way that would be super embarrassing if there were any witnesses present.

That's when she realizes that she is so not dressed appropriately.

Her leggings and faded Whitmore sweatshirt leave her decently covered but that was kind of the problem. A late evening visit from a guy you'd been having serious dirty thoughts about called for clothes of the _inappropriate_ variety.

Crap. She's got to hurry.

* * *

Klaus buzzes eighteen minutes later – and while generally Caroline is a big believer in punctuality this one time she could have used a couple extra minutes to prepare. Her apartment is only tidy-ish (she'd planned to rectify that tomorrow) with a pile of grading strewn over the coffee table, a small buildup of dishes in the kitchen, and a mountain of laundry that's waited to be folded on the loveseat.

Naturally, she shoves Klaus against the door as soon as he's inside, running her palms up over the thin fabric that covers his torso and tugging off his jacket.

What? It's the perfect distraction.

He seems to have no complaints, burying his hands in her hair as soon as they're free from his sleeves and slanting his mouth over hers. There's nothing tentative in his kiss and Caroline's lips part on a sigh, meeting his eagerness with her own.

He tastes minty, like he'd stopped to brush his teeth before coming over and Caroline smiles against his mouth. Klaus pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers. "What?"

She bites down on her lower lip in an attempt to stifle herself. "Nothing. Hi. Thanks for coming over."

His laugh is soft and his lips brush hers again. "Thanks for inviting me over." He pulls back when she tries to deepen the contact, sucking in a harsh breath when her hands slip under his shirt. He goes very still and she takes the opportunity to explore the tense muscle under her palms thoroughly. He swallows harshly, sounds a little strained, "We don't have to…"

She pauses, stepping back slightly. A quick glance down shows that, according to the bulge in his jeans, Klaus' body is _very_ much on board. Still, that didn't necessarily mean anything. "Do you not want to?"

He moves quickly, flipping their positions, hitching her leg around his hip. She'd changed into a dress, a floaty little summer thing, and his eyes widen slightly as his hand slides up her thigh, curling around her hip. Her bare hip.

She'd figured underwear would just get in the way.

"I definitely want to," he rasps.

"Good," Caroline breathes, tightening her leg and tilting her hips so he grinds against her. "Glad we're on the same page."

Klaus needs no further encouragement, his head dipping so his lips slide over her shoulder, nudging the strap of her dress aside. His hand on her hip encourages her to keep moving and she obliges, resting more of her weight against the door. His stubble scrapes over her skin, following the path of her falling dress, and Caroline fights a shiver. His free hand tugs when the fabric catches on the peak of her nipple and then his mouth is there, hot and wet and greedy.

She works her other arm out herself so her dress pools at her waist, sliding her hand into his hair when he moves to switch to the neglected breast. She doesn't let him though her body's screaming for more, yanking his mouth back to his and pushing away from the door. They kiss frantically, hands roaming over heated skin and Klaus lets her walk him backwards, helps her toss his shirt aside and takes the opportunity to shove her dress off her hips. "Bedroom," Caroline manages, ripping her mouth from his to suck in a lungful of air. "And take off your pants."

Their hands tangle around his belt buckle, clumsy and shaking. She finds herself muffling a laugh in his shoulder even as she gets his zipper down and her hand inside. He shudders when she wraps her fingers around him and the accompanying strangled grunt of her name is intensely satisfying. She pulls back to watch his face, to enjoy his darkening eyes and slack lips as she learns how he likes to be touched.

They stumble into her bed and go down in an ungraceful heap. Klaus manages to pin her hands, presses them into the mattress next to her head. He attempts to look stern though it's less than successful, flushed as he is, his hair ruffled from her hands. "I have been thinking about this for far too long to come on your hands the first time."

She attempts a matching seriousness, "So what you're saying is that handjobs are cool the second time?"

He pushes off from her, standing so he can strip out of the rest of her clothes. "Sorry, but no. I've plans for the second time as well."

She props herself up on her elbows, doesn't even attempt to make it look like she's doing anything but ogling him. It's only fair, she thinks, with the way his eyes are glued to her. "And when exactly do I get my turn?"

Klaus grins, his hands hooking under her knees and pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. "Perhaps another bet's in order? Since the last one worked out so well."

She's not exactly going to argue, not when he's dropping to his knees, pressing his lips to her inner thigh. She's about to question him about the terms of said bet (and mock him mercilessly if it was anything about getting her to scream his name) but Klaus' thumb slips over her folds gently, parting her and pressing deeper until it's slickened with her arousal, easing the way as he strokes her. She'd be embarrassed by how wet she was if she hadn't just had her hand around his cock, _felt_ how much he wanted her. She moans when he finds her clit and begins drawing slow circles that have her thighs twitching.

Clearly Klaus was adept at distraction techniques. She'd have to remember that.

**Back Office Intrigue (Part Two).**

**(Prompt: "dear laine, i have to know what's going to happen next with caroline working in klaus' bar!" The first part can be found in Chapter 76. Rated K+)**

It takes a few weeks for Caroline to realize that something is _off_ at the bar.

She's been settling in to Chicago nicely, had spent a weekend stalking garage sales so her apartment _finally_ looked like someone actually lived there. She got a great deal on a little dining table and a set of chairs, couldn't wait to have people over now that they would actually had somewhere to sit. Her mom's down to a single call filled with alarming crime stats every three days (a marked improvement from the twice daily phone briefings Caroline had endured when she'd first arrived). Her classes are mostly interesting, save for the one with the drone-y professor. She figures 3 out of 4 ain't bad at all, is cautiously optimistic about future semesters. Plus, she actually _likes_ her job.

All in all, life is pretty sweet. Maybe that's why she's slow on the uptake, having been too busy reveling in how well things were going.

Caroline had been a mess internally while preparing to finally move out of Virginia. She'd put on a brave face, brushed off the concerns people in Mystic Falls had been free to share with her. It had been harder when she'd been alone. Privately Caroline had endless lists of worries, sleepless nights filled with anxiety, doubts about if she was doing the right thing.

Still, she'd taken the leap, landed firmly on her feet. Was really freaking proud of herself, knowing that she'd done it and was well on her way to taking name and kicking ass.

When she feels a little more at home, grows comfortable at the bar and with her coworkers, that's when she begins to notice the weirdness.

Klaus seems to practically live at work (though Enzo had informed Caroline that wasn't actually the case, that Klaus had a very nice place around the corner though he loathed entertaining his siblings so Enzo had only been inside twice). When in the bar Klaus spent a lot of time in his office, glued to his laptop or tablet. He did hop onto the floor whenever things got crazy or they were short staffed. Caroline appreciated it, figured it was rare. In all her years working at The Grille she didn't think she'd seen the owner even uncap a beer let alone mix anything. Klaus wasn't super chatty from what she'd seen but he could turn it on with customers, left more than a few ladies discretely tugging their tops down to show more cleavage when he turned to pull bottles.

He flirted lightly with them, flashed his dimples and collected their money. Tossed all the numbers that were not so stealthily slipped his way in the garbage at the earliest opportunity. She wondered idly if he was seeing someone, had been looking for an opportunity inquire without making it seem like she was angling to throw her hat into the ring. Enzo wouldn't let her hear the end of it if he thought Caroline was interested in Klaus and Rebekah would catch wind of it. She'd thawed slightly in the last few weeks and Caroline had no desire to take any steps back so Caroline's curiosity about Klaus' relationship status remained unsatisfied.

That bugged her though she refused to look too deeply into why exactly that was.

Her shift today had started at 2 and it's been a strange one. Usually the middle of the week is quiet and she's able to sneak some time with her textbooks. Not today. There's been a steady stream of people through the door, every seat filled for most of the afternoon and into the evening. A rush had just passed and Caroline's depositing some cash in the till, thankful it's over. She fans herself, taking a much needed breath glancing around to survey the newly empty bar area. Klaus is to her left, finishing up a round of kamikazes for a group of frat rats, but no other customers are waiting. Something cold nudges her bare arm and Caroline jumps in surprise before taking the offered bottle of water gratefully. "Thank you," she tells Sophie, uncapping it and taking a deep swallow. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, "Why in the world are all these people here at 6 on a Tuesday?"

Sophie shakes her head ruefully, "I think there's a concert nearby. People are pre-drinking."

Caroline makes a face, doesn't try to hide her disgruntlement since all the customers are out of ear shot. "Ugh, my feet are killing me and I've got another two hours to go."

Sophie elbows her, tipping her head and casting a significant look in Klaus' direction. Caroline's a little puzzled by it, raises a questioning brow. Klaus has accepted payment for the drinks and he nudges Caroline over to slip it into the register. He makes it clear he's been listening, "You can sit for a minute if you'd like, love. Things look like they'll be quiet for a stretch."

She smiles but refuses. "Thanks, but I'm good. It's my own fault for wearing new boots. Gotta suffer and break them in."

Klaus glances down at her feet for a moment and shakes his head, "I'd comment on how baffling I find the idea that you wouldn't just _buy_ something comfortable but I'll refrain. I have sisters so I realize it's pointless to attempt reason in such situations."

"Men, so condescending." She hip checks him gently and he tosses her a mock glare, "There's a reason we steal your clothes, you know. It's because they're just made comfier than ours. Probably because men are giant whiny babies."

He rolls his eyes but it's good natured and Caroline catches Sophie's shocked face, notes her tense posture. Klaus is busy checking the float level so she mouths, 'What?' behind his back, wondering what's got the other bartender so freaked looking. Sophie shakes her head frantically, grabbing up one of the rags and turning away to painstakingly wipe the bar when Klaus steps back. His eyes don't shift in her direction, however, so her diligent cleaning goes unnoticed. "I'm going to grab a couple cases from downstairs. We're low."

Caroline's tempted to offer to help (sue her, she likes to watch his forearms flex while he lifts heavy things) but she wants to know what's got Sophie, a ball buster from New Orleans who's completely unafraid to smack down creepers or rowdy groups, so spooked more.

Which sucks because Klaus is wearing _really_ good jeans.

He walks away and Caroline manages to wait until he's turned the corner before she sidles over to Sophie, grabbing her arm. "_What_ is your deal?"

"My deal?" Sophie tosses the rag down, crossing her arms. "I wanna know what kind of blackmail you have on Klaus. He offered to let you sit! You called him a whiny baby and he didn't immediately fire you. Come on. Is it some kind of sex tape? I bet he's into the freaky stuff."

Caroline blinks (forcing her brain to _focus_ and not to wander down the path of contemplating Klaus and _any_ variety of sexy times). "He was just being nice?" she finally says and it comes out like a question.

That only makes Sophie more incredulous. "Klaus Mikaelson isn't nice," she insists. "Ever. I have seen him make at least a half a dozen servers cry. A couple of customers too."

Huh. Caroline could maybe picture it. Klaus was sometimes a little… intense. He was a perfectionist (not that Caroline had any room to judge) and she'd always gotten the vibe that he missed absolutely nothing. "He's always seemed fine to me. Not warm and cuddly but not a full on despot either."

"He _is_ a despot. The worst of them. I half expected him to berate you for complaining while you're raking in tips. Remind you of where the door was, that he'd have no problem filling your job."

"If you hate him so much why do you work here?"

Sophie shrugs, "Good location, killer tips. And I'm actually good at this so he leaves me alone as long as I keep my mouth shut and work my ass off."

A woman approaches, drawing Caroline's attention. She orders wine and Caroline's glad it's something easy because her mind is whirling, turning over the new info. Sophie's not the drama llama type, she's blunt and doesn't mince words. Caroline believes what she's been told. Several other things, observations, are clicking into place. The bar's always quieter when Klaus is behind it, the usual banter and jokes between the staff absent. She'd noted it, figured it was just because he was the boss. It also explains all of Rebekah's snide little remarks, Enzo's concerned inquiries into how she was finding working for Klaus.

Why, Caroline wondered, was he _only_ nice to her?

She feared the answer was going to make thing complicated even as she was secretly thrilled that maybe her quickly brushed aside thoughts about Klaus – his forearms, his lips, what he liked to do in his down time – might not be entirely one sided.

Now the question was – what was she going to _do_ about it?

**Food (And) Fights (Part Two)**

**(Prompt: "a part 2 for your "Klaus and Caroline own a restaurant" AU where Klaus makes Caroline soup because she's." A Sequel to the second drabble in Chapter 39. Rated T).**

Klaus is careful to keep his steps quiet, takes pains to avoid the creaky spots in the floor. He's learned the hallway to Caroline's office well in the last two years and he has a sneaking suspicion that she's hiding there this morning for a reason.

It's a Thursday, one of their busiest evenings of the week. Their reservation list is full and service starts in a few hours. Klaus hasn't seen Caroline yet which is something of a first. Her assistant, April, had popped into the kitchen to check on things periodically. Klaus had never thought much of the timid mouse of a girl – she tended to avoid him – but he'd been reluctantly impressed by her stealth. He'd only ever noticed her as she was slipping out the door, if he'd know she was there at all.

It was almost as if she was purposefully staying below his radar.

Klaus was fairly certain he knew why.

He'd spent the previous evening at Caroline's. She'd fallen asleep on the couch far earlier than she usually did. When he'd carried her to bed she'd seemed warm and he hadn't been able to resist laying a hand on her forehead to check if she was feverish. That had awoken her and she'd managed to pry her eyes open enough to glare up at him, bat his hand away, and mutter something he hadn't been able to decipher (though the prickly tone had been unmistakable) when she'd rolled away to bury herself in her pillow. Klaus had retreated to the living room, finished his wine and scratched out some menu ideas until he'd been tired enough to sleep.

Sleep had turned out to be elusive, his bed partner restless and throwing off an insane amount of heat. Klaus had been kicked more than once, and Caroline's breathing had grown audible as the night wore on, becoming hoarse scratch as she tossed fitfully.

He'd readied himself to fight a battle in the morning. Caroline had never taken a sick or personal day in the two plus years he'd known her, too much of a control freak to let a little thing like mere illness stop her from running the restaurant. Getting her to take regular days off was enough of a challenge and Klaus often resorts to blackmail and bribery (though, to be fair, he benefitted from those arrangements enormously) to push Caroline into a little rest and relaxation. Convincing her to stay home and recuperate was going to be a challenge, Klaus had known, even though she was quite obviously taking ill.

Unfortunately his mental preparations had been for naught.

When he'd awoken he'd found the bed empty, a note from Caroline in the kitchen saying she'd gone in early to get a start on the day.

A tactical retreat.

It was also a sign that she knew her position was weak and Klaus decided he just needed to pick his moment. He'd gone through his usual routine, made a pit stop at the market on his way to the restaurant, and headed directly to the kitchen instead of barging into Caroline's office.

Caroline would relax, let her guard down, and think she'd won. Klaus barked a few orders but was content to let the prep cooks handle things while he set up his own station with the ingredients he'd bought, and got to work.

A few people had flitted in to ask him if Caroline was all right, Marcel, who ran the bar mentioned that she'd actually cancelled a meeting with a vendor, a sure sign that her mind over matter approach only went so far, while Caroline's good friend Bonnie had popped in the vent her frustrations about Caroline's stubbornness, and told Klaus he'd better have a plan to get her to go home.

It was possibly the most cordial she'd ever been to him, despite the fact that he and Caroline had passed a year together awhile back, and Klaus had strenuously resisted the urge to comment and ruin it, had merely gestured to the chopped veg on his board, the chicken stock building on the stove, and assured her he'd take care of it.

The things he did for Caroline Forbes.

Once the soup was finished – chicken noodle with a few embellishments, no need to mess with the classics – he'd packed it up in a To Go container, along with a loaf of fresh baked bread, and headed to Caroline's office.

He pauses just outside the door, straining his ears. It's cracked a bit and he can hear her moving around. His timing is fortuitous and Caroline's soon letting out deep, hacking coughs, gritting out, "Nope, no. I refuse," once she's done.

Klaus nudges the door wider with his foot, "Talking to yourself is not a good sign, love. A sign of insanity, is it not?"

Caroline's wide eyed when she glances up, and Klaus notes the shadows and redness marring their usual bright blue unhappily. Her office is warm but she's wearing one of his sweaters, a thick wool thing, and he's fairly certain she's got several layers additional layers of her own on underneath. She clears her throat, attempts a smile, "Hey. How's prep going?"

"Perfect, as always. How's trying to pretend you're not sick and miserable going?"

He can tell she considers arguing, mouth thinning. But a shudder wracks her frame, a violent sneeze tearing out of her and her eyes water as she reaches for a tissue. Klaus sighs and enters the room fully, closing the door behind him while watching Caroline expectantly. She deflates slightly, leaning back in her chair and tossing her pen aside. She rubs her temple with the heel of her hand, "Ugh, my head is killing me. But we have that magazine profile scheduled next week and…"

"Not until Wednesday, plenty of time," Klaus points out, cutting her off. He sets the bag he'd brought on her desk, circling it to come up behind her. He lifts her hair, laying a hand on her neck, finding it sweat damp and hot to the touch. She leans into him with a sigh, "Mmm, your hands feel nice. Cold."

"They're not. You're just feverish."

"Fevers are for losers," Caroline mumbles.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of her head as he pulls her chair out from her desk. "Fevers are merely a sign that you need to slow down. It's not going to go away if you ignore it, Caroline."

She's still reluctant, her movements sluggish as he urges her to her feet, "What, did you get a medical degree, Dr. Klaus?"

"Do you want to go to a doctor?" Klaus asks reasonably. "Because I'd be delighted to take you and have the opportunity to say I told you so when he tells you to take a few days for recovery."

That would irritate Caroline like few other things.

She makes a soft noise, half grumble half growl, and turns to face him. "One day. Tops. I can't miss a weekend."

Klaus refrains from arguing that she very well could – her staff was excellent, well trained and more than capable of handling things without Caroline's direct supervision for a bit – knowing that it would only get her back up and he rather thought he was winning at the moment. No need to spoil it.

He retrieves her coat, holds it open and assists her in shrugging it on. He tips her chin up to look into her eyes, "I made soup, it should help. Drink some tea too, will you? Josh is going to run you home since I'm sure me leaving now will only make you worry more even though I'd be back in plenty of time for service."

Caroline's blinking up at him, warmth and something like shock softening her gaze, "You made me soup?"

He's unsure why that's giving her pause, "I make you food all the time."

"Yeah, because you kinda get off on watching me eat it, Chef Perv."

It's said with a tiny smirk and Klaus can't deny it. "You make the most delightful noises, sweetheart."

"Which you'll miss when I eat your soup. Though I'm a gross sweaty mess and probably not all that tempting."

He rolls his eyes, "You're not a mess. The farthest thing from gross. Just a bit worn around the edges. The soup will help and that knowledge is more than enough for me."

She wraps her arms around his waist, cuddling close and resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Thank you," she mumbles, pressing a chaste kiss just above his collar before she straightens. Seemingly resigned for now, she sighs and glances around her office, "You'll call me if anything explodes? And fill me in on all the non-life or death things later?"

"Tomorrow," Klaus says firmly. "Because you'll be asleep when I get to your place."

"You don't usually stay over on Thursdays," Caroline says, sounding puzzled.

Slightly exasperated Klaus shakes his head, "I do when you're sick."

She studies him for a long moment, Klaus doesn't try to hide his concern. Finally she nods, "Okay, then. I'll see you later."

"You will. Eat the soup. Drink…"

"Some tea," Caroline finishes with a teasing smile. "I know you think it cures everything, as long as it's the right tea and not my weird tea. What was it you called the last box I bought? Fruity garbage, I believe."

It's something they bicker over frequently and Klaus lets her tease him, gently ushering her out of her office and towards the door that will lead them to the small parking lot at the back of the restaurant. Josh is waiting, ready to go as Klaus had asked. Klaus sees Caroline shiver and opens the door of the car for her. "In," he tells her, ignoring her annoyed sigh. "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"I thought I was the worry wort in this relationship," Caroline grumbles, bucking herself in. "You're supposed to be Mr. Cool and Laconic Moody Pants."

Klaus doesn't take the bait, knowing that bickering will only delay her departure and the sooner Caroline's comfortable in her flat the better.

He won't deny her little peevishness, not when he'd won.

**Accidental Matchmaker**

**(Prompt: "****Caroline and Klaus are neighbors. Her cat keeps bothering him and leaving "surprises"." Rated K+)**

When Klaus goes to water the plants on his balcony he's surprised by how good they look. It's the first time he's paid them any mind since he'd moved in and Bekah showed up with them as a housewarming gift. He dips a finger in to test the soil and is distracted by a metallic glint peeking out from under an azalea bloom. Puzzled, Klaus unearths a half buried bottle cap, digging a little deeper to find a second.

It can't have fallen, not embedded as it was, and he stoops to get a closer look.

Only to find a small treasure trove of shiny objects.

Bottle caps, bits of a bright blue plastic bag. An earring, three quarters, and the top of a tin of lip gloss.

All of which, save maybe the coins, he's certain don't belong to him.

He glances around, wondering if he's perhaps managed to anger a neighbour and they're taking some sort of useless petty revenge by attempting to sabotage his flowers. He's not met anyone really, keeps odd hours, but perhaps that's led to noise? But urely someone would ask him politely to keep it down instead of resorting to this?

Or maybe he was overestimating the average human's ability to be mature. He had plenty of reasons (and a stellar example in Kol) to believe that some people took longer than others to accept certain adult realities.

Annoyed, Klaus picks the detritus out of his planters, planning on tossing it all in the bin once he's back inside. The earring catches his eye and he holds it up, studying it thoughtfully. It didn't look cheap, or like the sort of thing that one would toss away randomly.

He pockets it, just in case he was mistaken about how it had made its way to his balcony. Maybe that one was an honest mistake.

* * *

"Since when do you have a cat?"

He's in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher (Bekah's never quite cottoned on to the fact that, as a guest, she should offer to help with the washing up when she shows up for dinner unannounced) when her question, loaded with a healthy amount of disgust, floats over to him.

"I don't," he calls back shortly. He's always preferred dogs.

"Then what is that orange thing doing digging around in your flowers? It looks like it has fleas."

Klaus rolls his eyes, finishing up before joining Rebekah in the living room. She's sipping her wine, staring out the glass doors with distaste. Sure enough, a cat is perched on his railing, pawing at the dirt right where Klaus had found the first bottle cap. Rebekah's exaggerating slightly, the cat's not very large, but slightly plump and wears a blue collar, clearly indicating it's cared for.

"Must belong to one of my neighbors."

"Rude," Rebekah sniffs. "You should call your building manager and complain. What if you were allergic?"

"I'll wait and see if it's a problem, sister dear. I'd rather not have to deal with tedious politics."

That sends Rebekah off on a rant, and Klaus half listens to her complain about the musician who moved in across the hall from her, some bloke named Enzo who apparently took great amusement in needling Rebekah every time they shared a lift.

He makes a mental note to check the planter later, just to see if the cat was the culprit behind the things he'd found.

* * *

When he remembers to check he finds another earring, an entirely different one than the first. That one had been gold, dangly with tiny blue stones at the end. This one is black, round and edged in silver. He knows enough about jewellery to recognize that the posts are sturdy, well made, confirming his initial suspicions. Someone will likely miss them.

Klaus rolls it absently as he considers his options, is startled by a soft thump next to him. He turns, finds the cat in question blinking up at him. "Hello," Klaus says, immediately wincing and glad that he's alone. He reaches out a cautious hand, is surprised when the cat immediately bumps his fingers with its head.

Odd. He'd always heard that cats weren't the friendly sort. The cat walks closer, tail twitching, its eyes on the earring Klaus holds. It makes a noise, paw reaching out, when Klaus holds it farther away. He gives its head an absent scratch, fingers reaching for the collar. The cat doesn't seem to mind and Klaus finds a tag easily.

There's an address, two apartments over, and Klaus hesitantly reaches out for the cat, relaxing when it seems to have no issue being picked up. It even begins to purr slightly, settling into his arms comfortably.

He figures he might as well take the little kleptomaniac home. Finally meet the neighbors.

The pretty blonde who opens the door is a welcome surprise and Klaus spares a glance down, glad to see his shirt is decent if unfortunately coated in orange fur. Her blue eyes widen, taking Klaus in before dropping to the cat with a look of dread. "Oh no, what did Cheddar do now?"

"Cheddar?" Klaus finds himself asking, lips curling in amusement.

She looks a touch embarrassed as she takes the cat, "Little me had cats named Oreo and Marshmallow. The theme just kinda stuck. Did he sneak into your place? The couple in 3A sneak him Doritos and he takes that as an invite to just waltz into people's homes now. I'm trying to convince him he wants to be an indoor cat but he's stubborn."

"He's remarkably friendly," Klaus notes.

She sighs, "Yeah, he pretty much flopped right onto my lap and made himself at home when I went to the shelter. I couldn't say no."

Klaus silently admires the cat's technique. "Don't worry, he's not guilty of breaking and entering. Merely some minor trespassing. A spot of vandalism but my flowers seem no worse for wear."

Her brows furrow in confusion and Klaus elaborates. "He's been using my balcony to store his hoard." Klaus fishes the earrings out of his pocket, holding them out in an open palm.

She groans, "Bad Cheddar," she admonishes the cat, though Klaus imagines that the way she holds him close and strokes his head diminishes the effect of the scolding. The cat seems utterly unabashed, snuggling into the woman's arms and preening at the attention. "Seriously, thank you for bringing those by. I've been looking for the gold one all week."

"It's no trouble," Klaus assures her and she smiles in gratitude. He should probably take his leave but he can't resist lingering, sneaking glances at her face so he'll be able to capture the freckles that dust her nose when he sketches her later. "I'm Klaus," he offers. "I'll make sure to check for any additional deposits. Just in case he reoffends."

She shifts, holding out her hand and grasping his firmly, "Caroline. And thank you." She bites her lip, head tipped to the side as she considers him. "Do you maybe want to come in? I just made coffee and I usually like to do the whole welcome to the neighborhood thing."

"Do you?" Klaus teases, "tell me more."

"Sometimes there are cookies," she informs him, feigning seriousness as a slight smirk graces her features. "But I've been swamped at work. Would you accept some store bought scones? I really need to grocery shop properly. I'll fill you in on all the building gossip."

Klaus thinks it's an exceptionally tempting offer and doesn't hesitate to accept.

Perhaps he'd been wrong there _is_ something to be said for cats.


	83. Short Shallow Gasps

**Notes: **This one was written for the Klaroline Arbor Day event. It was supposed to be just forest smut but a teeny hint of plot crept in.

**Short Shallow Gasps**

**(Prompt: "she can make plants erupt from the ground and do her bidding." Title from "All This And Heaven Too" by Florence + The Machine. SMUT)**

The tiny huff of breath Klaus lets out – not _quite_ annoyed but definitely impatient – is the final straw.

As they'd trekked through the bayou Caroline had pointedly ignored his questions. What was her plan, he wanted to know, how long did she think it would take etc. etc. Eventually, Klaus had gotten the hint and fallen silent. And it wasn't even that she didn't _want_ to answer, it was that she really couldn't and she hated to admit it. Caroline was still figuring out her freaky mutant powers, just what she could do, and they seemed to grow by leaps and bounds. It's not like the crazies at Whitmore who'd experimented on her had provided a manual so she relied on instinct and a whole lot of trial and error. Once they'd arrived at a suitable location - enough space, decent tree cover – he'd taken to pacing.

A pointed glare had nipped _that_ in the bud.

She'd thought she could _finally_ concentrate but nope. Did Klaus think that standing barefoot in the center of a clearing trying to coax life into being was her idea of a good time? She'd had big plans with Netflix and a batch of peanut butter cookies when he'd knocked on her door with what he'd termed an emergency.

Which it totally wasn't but by the time she'd gotten the details they were already in the car and outside the city limits.

Caroline whirls, flips her hair out of her face, and stomps the few paces to where Klaus is leaning against a tree. His brows lift in interest as he surveys her but he doesn't flinch away from her temper. "Is there a problem, love?"

She stops when they're toe to toe, crossing her arms defiantly. "Yes, there is a problem. I am attempting to regrow a flower that has been extinct for _fifty_ years. It's not native to Louisiana, and oh yeah, I only have like _three_ measly dried petals to work with. Do you seriously think that's _easy_?"

He opens his mouth to reply but Caroline shakes her head, shifting forward and invading his space. It's a classic-Klaus move, one she'd been on the receiving end of way too many times. She's stopped finding it intimidating and Klaus doesn't flinch away from her attempt either, his lips curling in indulgent amusement. "Newsflash: it's not."

"I have the utmost faith in your abilities," Klaus tells her. She narrows her eyes, searches for evidence that he's patronizing her, but Klaus' expression shows nothing but sincerity.

Maybe he actually meant it.

They'd met because of Caroline's abilities, the predicament she'd found herself in when they'd been foisted upon her. Two years ago as a student at Whitmore College she'd been blissfully unaware of the unsavory activities that went on behind the scenes. Secret societies, experimentation on living subjects, the supernatural – the campus was a cesspool of dark and dangerous things. Caroline had been unwittingly sucked into the pit, had left it forever altered.

All because of a creep whose daddy was an Augustine bigwig. He'd objected to Caroline repeatedly kicking his ass in organic chemistry, had sought revenge, and tried to break her.

He'd failed.

She'd ended up in a cell, cold and hungry and confused. She'd yelled for help, had been so relieved when said creep, a classmate she'd recognized, had wandered up to the bars. Until he'd smiled, cold and eager, and told her that he had great plans for her, that she was sure she'd be so much less annoying when they were through with her.

Caroline had endured injections and pain and his endless speechifying. She'd screamed, cried, begged until her throat was raw. It hadn't helped, no mercy was ever shown and no rescue came.

With no other options she'd begun to plan. Forced herself to focus on what her captors were saying, learned that they thought her too stupid and too far gone to save herself.

Oh, that had been a mistake.

An idea had formed but she'd needed a little help, some extra muscle – that's where Klaus had come in. The Augustine nutjobs hadn't been shy about mentioning his name, their plans for him and his family. Namely the deaths of all The Originals and the extinction of vampire kind. Caroline had decided that Klaus sounded like the ideal ally.

Once the evil scientist types were finished with her, her body different and no longer just human, they'd put her to work. Simple things at first – saving wilting bonsai trees, growing daisies from seeds to blooms, bending branches and vines to her will. She'd done what they asked, feigned meekness. Then they'd told her she was ready for a bigger task.

White oak.

A whole new world had been opened up to Caroline – vampires, werewolves, witches. She learned of battles that had waged for centuries between species she'd been sure were nothing more than fairy tales. She'd have been terrified if not for all that she'd already endured at the hands of the worst kind of humans. No matter what they said about The Originals, spoke of how vile and bloodthirsty and cruel they were, Caroline had been willing to take her chances if it meant getting out of her cage.

Causing a minor cave in had been simple. The buildings the Augustine Society inhabited were old, surrounded by trees with deep, strong roots. Controlling them, and allowing her friendly cell neighbor (and vampire) Enzo to escape through a crack she ripped into the foundation, and speed away (with strict instructions to find Klaus and inform him of the plotting against him that was happening), had been trickier. She'd been immensely drained afterwards but it had ultimately been worth it.

Klaus had shown up, more quickly than Caroline had dared hope. He'd ripped the doors open and immediately gotten bloody, crushing bones and tearing out vital organs. His displeasure with the activities The Augustine Society had been busy with was made abundantly clear.

No one in the building had survived.

Except Caroline. Because she'd made a bargain.

The terms of which were now complete – she'd tracked down each and every white oak sapling that the Augustine Society had forced her to grow. She'd been leery, had held her breath as the last one had burned, afraid that Klaus would turn on her and she'd never leave that forest in Romania. That he'd just been toying with her all along, that he hadn't really been interested in her opinions and ambitions. She'd held herself rigidly, her heart racing, and there's no way he could have missed her anxiety.

Klaus hadn't commented, hadn't even tossed out one of the quips he thought oh so clever. He'd merely placed his palm on her back to usher her away, told her he had an excellent bottle of champagne waiting on ice for them in the plane. Only appropriate for a celebration, he'd murmured.

Caroline had gradually relaxed as they'd shared it. Klaus' taste was impeccable, though she'd never tell him so. By the time they'd been in the air, headed back to New Orleans, he'd even coaxed a few smiles from her.

These days no one makes her feel safer.

As per their initial agreement she'd been free to leave the city, and Klaus' reach, once the white oak was all destroyed. However, for about a million reasons Caroline's done her damndest to shove into a tiny box in the back of her mind, she finds herself unwilling to go.

It's not like she's sitting around waiting for Klaus' to throw her a bone. She had a tidy little business going, sold rare plants to human gardeners and supernatural types alike. She's been having a great time exploring New Orleans, has enrolled in college again, made some friends. She's living and she's happy.

So what if she wakes up tangled in her sheets, sweaty and sensitive and panting Klaus' name more often than not? He was hot and she wasn't blind. Klaus had an uncanny knack for showing up whenever she was considering doing more than just idle flirting and it had led to a lengthy dry spell. He'd waltz in and glare and snarl until any potential companions slowly backed away, terror painted on their faces.

She really needed to get him to stop doing that.

It's her own fault that she keeps getting roped into pitching in with Klaus' problems, Caroline will admit. Something about the dimples, a particularly wheedling tone he used, got her every time.

She lifts a hand, jabs her finger into his shoulder. He doesn't budge. And her finger kind of hurts, damn him. Inhaling deeply she musters her hardest tone and attempts to drive her point into his thick, hybrid skull, "Lurking and sighing and breathing down my neck is _not_ helpful."

He shifts, unconcerned, settling back against the tree once more. His eyes roam over her, a touch of heat darkening his blue eyes. It's a look he's been giving her more and more and Caroline's not enough of a liar to pretend as if she's not affected by it. "Surely you understand why I'm here?"

She doesn't retreat, lifts her chin to meet his gaze squarely. "Because you don't trust me, duh. Which is fair, admittedly, since I was technically blackmailing you for a while there and you're a super paranoid nutball. But why do _you_ have to be here? Don't you have a minion you can sic on me? Someone who'll be _quiet_?"

"And here I thought you weren't fond of your protection detail."

An understatement. Klaus hadn't informed her of the assigned hybrid body guards. She'd seethed once she'd figured out that the silent, intimidating shadows she'd picked up had been courtesy of Klaus. He'd not flinched when confronted initially, pointing out that they had a bargain and that he was merely ensuring she was doing her part to fulfill it.

Relations had been frosty between them for weeks afterwards, Caroline doing her best to communicate only via text, and only when absolutely necessary.

Klaus hadn't liked that, had sought her out around town, only to leave each interaction surly and frustrated by her monosyllabic responses and refusal to make eye contact.

She'd been super impressed with her ability to freeze him out even when he goaded her.

Klaus was used to getting his way but Caroline was stubborn. Coming to a compromise had been a battle, hard fought and encouraged by the people closest to them (who'd taken to threatening murder and/or temporary excommunication). She wasn't an idiot, she got that a shady organization like The Augustine Society might have hidden branches who'd want to recover Caroline as an asset. She knew Klaus had spent centuries acquiring enemies and she had no desire to be cannon fodder. It wasn't the bodyguards she'd objected to, it was the sneakiness and the fact that they were a little _too_ present.

Seriously, having them lurk outside the lady's room was _awkward_.

At the time she'd gotten the feeling that concessions were a rare thing for Klaus. She's even surer of that now.

Still, he's managed to bend, for her, on more than one matter. The bodyguards stayed, but she got to pick them, set some boundaries so she had private spaces. Additionally, Caroline was well aware that Enzo's heart remained in his chest cavity largely because she wished it. Klaus endured his fascination with Rebekah (who quite liked the attention) solely because Enzo was Caroline's friend.

He was far from gracious about it, not shy about tossing threats - ones that were both imaginative and promising of endless agony. They were empty, however. Klaus, who'd never hesitated to eliminate enemies or annoyances, fought back his violent impulses all in an effort to make Caroline happy.

That was a big part of the reason Caroline had decided to put down roots in New Orleans.

"They've grown on me. They, at least, aren't distracting."

She recognizes her mistake immediately. Klaus looks far too pleased with himself, he practically preens.

"My, I had no idea you felt that way," he drawls, reaching out to tuck a curl behind her ear.

She grits her teeth together, as his touch lingers, delicately tracing the shell of her ear. Caroline forces herself to slowly counts to ten in an attempt to gather her frayed patience. "Don't flatter yourself. I just meant that you're not exactly great at the whole silent observer thing. And it's annoying. You must have better things to do."

"Perhaps I just enjoy your company."

Her snort is immediate and incredulous. "Oh please, use those lines on someone who's not gonna charge you for services rendered."

He doesn't react to her taunt like she'd expected. Klaus' head tips to the side, eyes growing sharp and intent, "Why is it that you're so reluctant to acknowledge that I enjoy you, Caroline?"

Again, not what she'd expected.

Caroline blinks, can't help fidgeting and yielding some space. Klaus follows her, pushing off the tree with a lithe movement that shouldn't be so compelling. She swallows hard and offers him a grin, preparing to lighten the mood with a joke. It dies in her throat when Klaus cups her chin, his thumb feathering over her lips. She freezes, knows her eyes are round in shock. "You were ever so fascinating," Klaus says softly, "in that cell. Too thin, in threadbare rags, bruised and tired. You didn't cower, or cringe when the blood spilled and bones snapped. You looked triumphant, every inch the conquering queen. When you looked at me, I saw not an ounce of weakness. I know weakness. Can sense it, exploit it. And then you spoke, offered me a rather clever bargain. I found myself impressed."

"Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

His smile is a slow thing, and her pulse kicks up in response. There's genuine fondness in it, warmth mingling with something possessive and wanting that has her fighting a shiver. His fingers slip into her hair, his head dipping as he inhales deeply.

Caroline wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him back, sways into him before she can stop herself.

"Indeed. Still, I was wary. Thought it might be a trap you were in on, that you were pretty, tempting bait."

Caroline bristles, jerks away from him with a snarl, "I would never have worked with them."

Klaus moves faster than she can see, spinning them so she's the one backed against the tree his palm cradling her head and protecting it from impact. "I know," he soothes. "For what they did to you I find myself wishing their deaths hadn't been so easy. I should have made them suffer."

Yeah. Spending all her time around vampires has totally warped her perceptions about romance because that hits her hard.

Caroline surges forward and slants her lips over Klaus' before she can talk herself out of it, grips his shirt and yanks him closer.

Klaus doesn't seem to mind, pressing into her, his hands just as urgent. He tugs on her hair and coaxes her mouth open with a wet glide of his tongue and Caroline moans under the onslaught.

She's thought about this, dreamt of it, but she'd always assumed he'd be smooth, suave and practiced. This is better, his grasping fingers and greedy mouth, as if he's been waiting all this time to learn what she tastes like. Caroline sinks into the tree at her back, widens her legs as Klaus presses between them. Her skirt's a thin barrier and she moans into his mouth when Klaus presses the firm length of his thigh against her. She rolls her hips seeking more pressures Klaus begins to move with her. One of his hands drops, traces idle patterns on her thigh as he pulls his mouth away.

Her eyes flutter shut but only for a moment. "Look at me," Klaus demands, scraping his nails against her skin.

The lick of pain is a shock, a good one, and her mouth falls open around another sound of pleasure even as her eyes drift open.

His are glowing gold, full of hunger and satisfaction, his lips kiss wet and reddened. "I have been very patient," Klaus rasps, once he has her attention. "If you want this, Caroline, be certain. Know what it means."

Does he really expect her to _think_? Now? With the heat of him flush against her, his cock pressed tight to where she's growing slick and aching with only a few scraps of fabric to dull the sensation? She clears her throat. "Wha…what?"

Klaus smirks, uses his grip on her thigh to hitch her leg higher as he grinds against her deliberately. "If you want me I'm going to begin by taking you against this tree. I won't be able to wait for the comforts of a bed, not with how hard it's been to resist you."

"You've been…"

He hums, leans in to drag his lips across her racing pulse, licking over her heated skin. "Practicing an impressive amount of restraint? Yes. I've been waiting for you to come to me but you're stubborn, sweetheart. Your breath quickens when we quarrel, your skin turns such pretty shades of pink and rose. I can always smell the want on you. Tasting it is even better."

Klaus punctuates that statement with a kiss to her neck, the kind that uses teeth and tongue and leaves marks, and Caroline arches up against him, her fingers clawing at his clothed back in an effort to keep him close.

She's panting when he pulls back and Klaus' eyes remain hungry even as he eases away enough to see her face. "If we do this you'll come home with me when we're done here," he begins, low and gravelly, "and once you're in my bed I'll ensure you'll not want to leave it."

It's hard to process his words when his hands have taken to wandering, smoothing over the length of her thighs, his thumbs tracing the band of her underwear at her hip. All she wants to do is move against him, assuage the pulsing want that's been ramped up by his words with friction, but Klaus has her firmly pinned. He's waiting on her, expression expectant, the desire banked.

Trust Klaus to want to hash out the details _now_. He wasn't one to play fair when he wanted something.

"I'm human. Well, mostly. In need of things like food and water."

He inclines his head, "I'm well aware of your current state, love. I've no intention of allowing you to waste away on me. Not with all the things I've planned to do to you."

Caroline blinks, makes a mental note to ask him to elaborate later (listening to him speak delicious filth while he moves inside of her _might_ feature frequently in her fantasies). "So, what? You wanna go steady?"

Klaus grimaces slightly in distaste, "_Not_ the phrase I'd choose."

Caroline grins, slips her hands under his shirt. The tensing of the muscles there is both fascinating - she lets her fingers explore, tracing the dips and grooves - and gratifying. "But is that what you want?"

Klaus doesn't hesitate, "I want you. All of you. You thoughts and desires. The practical and the carnal. I want your body hot and slick and wrapped around me. I want your time and not just when I can engineer a need of your skills."

She'd kind of had Klaus pegged as bad at sharing. Not that Caroline had any stones to throw in that department. And she'd totally known he was manufacturing emergencies and dire situations. He was crafty like that.

"I reserve the right to storm off when you piss me off."

"And I reserve the right to use every tool in my arsenal to coax you out of your temper."

Make up sex? Far from the worst thing in the world.

"I don't share either. I'm the only one who gets to touch you." Caroline runs her nails down his abs, hard enough to sting, to emphasize her point.

Klaus' eyes flare, the ring of gold brightening, his grip on her hips tightening. "Another bargain, love? I accept."

They'd sealed the last one with a handshake, though Klaus had lifted her hand to his mouth, run his lips over her knuckles as he'd pinned her with assessing eyes.

It seems as though Klaus has something different in mind to seal this pact.

But he watches her just as intently.

He tears her panties away without preamble, a deep approving rumble spilling out when he slips his fingers into her folds, finds her hot and nearly dripping.

Caroline's embarrassment is fleeting, any self-consciousness at her obvious want gone once Klaus finds her clit. He swirls his thumb around the throbbing nerves, light indirect brushes that send jolts of pleasure coursing through her. She shifts trying to direct the pressure to where she needs it, reaching out with shaking hands to fumble with Klaus' jacket. She wants skin, to make him shudder and clench under her touch. "Off," she demands. "Right now."

He moves quickly, shrugging the offending garment away and stripping his t-shirt. A sharp tug has the straps of her dress snapping and her bra falls away immediately after.

She's pretty sure he'd shredded it but any complaint dies when he pulls her nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, scrapes his teeth over the stiff point. Caroline whines low in her throat, running her hands over what she can reach of his skin. They still, gripping tightly, when his hand returns between her thighs, two long fingers pressing into her. She groans, spearing her fingers into his hair and yanking, wanting his mouth on hers.

Klaus crowds her against the tree, the hot line of his torso pressed against her as he devours her. The kiss is messy, needy, more teeth than finesse and Caroline loves every second as she fights to give as good as she's getting. His cock, still trapped behind his jeans, presses insistently against her thigh and Caroline attempts to worm her hand in between them.

Klaus thwarts her, catching her wrist and pinning it above her head. "No," he rasps. "Not yet." His thumb drags over her clit and her thighs twitch, eyes rolling back at the sensation. He squeezes her wrist gently before dropping it. Caroline rests it on his shoulder. "Good girl," he murmurs. He tugs on her knee, encouraging her to brace her foot on the tree and leave him more room. Klaus continues speaking, low and gravelly as he works her up. "You'll come on my hand first. I want you soaked so that when you're tight around my cock you'll need it fast and hard. I want your frantic in my arms, your nails in my skin, my name the only thing you can say."

She swallows harshly, breathes in shakily, "Is that a vampire thing?"

His smile is a promise that coaxes another shudder from her, her body clamping down around the fingers he's been lazily fucking her with. "Oh, Caroline, rough has its place but I want you in all ways. Writhing on my bed under the softest, slowest strokes of my tongue, your lovely thighs splayed wide in invitation. I'll watch your every muscle contract, build the most exquisite tension until you're hoarse from begging to come. I want you sun warmed and sleepy, sighing as I slip into you from behind and toy with your nipples as we move together. I want you on top, riding me, rubbing your clit and taking what you need without shame."

God, her fantasies had _really_ let her down.

Klaus speeds up the motions of his hand and her hips pick up the rhythm, chasing the feeling of fullness at every withdrawal. Klaus watches her fall apart with rapt attention, murmuring encouragement and praise. The individual words cease to hold much meaning as Caroline begins to spiral, leaning more heavily against Klaus. She cries out when she hits the peak, the sound muffled in his throat. Her orgasm rolls through her in long, shuddering waves, leaving her limbs useless and trembling as Klaus draws out spine-melting aftershocks with clever fingers.

She's a panting, pliant, satisfied mess when he hoists her into his arms, the line of his shoulders taut with a strain she knows has nothing to do with her weight. He shoves his jeans down with jerky movements and Caroline does her best to help, bracing herself on his shoulders and wrapping her legs more securely around his hips. She dips her chin to see him stroking himself, her lips part around a gasp as she spies the faint shake of his hands as he spreads her wetness along the thick length of his cock. Her stomach tightens around a new rush of desire.

She's gonna need a repeat performance. In better lighting.

Her eyes flick up to find Klaus watching her knowingly, a healthy dose of intrigue painted across his features. "Hmm, voyeuristic tendencies?" he teases. "We can play with those later, sweetheart."

He sounds unbearably smug and she's tempted to smack him, until he rubs the head of his cock around her clit. Her hips jerk, she is still _so_ sensitive, and all less than charitable thoughts about Klaus' massive ego leave her.

She can deal with him being annoyingly pleased with his prowess as long as he's inside her.

A minute adjustment and he's pressing against her entrance, squeezing past fluttering muscles. Klaus groans harshly, his jaw clenched tight. A long contented sigh wells up from Caroline, her nails scrabbling for purchase against his shoulders as he pushes deeper.

When his hips are flush with hers he stills and his eyes drift shut. His expression is a fascinating mix of pleasure-pain and Caroline kisses his throat, nips just under the hinge if his jaw. He's a solid line of tension, his muscles straining under his iron control.

Caroline wants it gone, like he'd promised. The waiting for her to adjust is sweet but she's beyond ready. He won't hurt her, she's certain of that. And if just _this_ feels so good she's looking forward to the rest.

She drags her lips upward, brushes them against his ear, "Aren't you supposed to be ruining me for all other men right now?" she taunts, biting down on his earlobe.

His eyes snap open and fix on hers, "Gladly," he grits out.

He begins to move, shifting his hips until he finds the perfect angle, one that has Caroline crying out at every entry, her hips meeting his firm thrusts with frantic rolls.

When they collapse to the ground, sweaty and spent, Klaus cushions her fall, settling her against his chest. There are rocks poking at her shins but she's too blissed out to care.

He busies himself with combing through the knots in her hair - the rough bark hadn't been kind to her curls. "Ruined yet?" He asks conversationally while Caroline's heart is still pounding wildly. He sounds only the slightest bit winded, something that just wasn't fair.

The wisest course of action is probably to demure, maybe hum noncommittally. But where's the fun in that?

"Eh," Caroline mutters dismissively, "I…"

She chokes on the rest of the sentence when Klaus rolls them and slithers down her body, his lips hot against her soaked slit, licking her open, before she can take another breath.

She doesn't protest when her drapes her thigh over his shoulder, nor when he grips her ass and lifts her into his mouth.

Taunting Klaus has always been fun but Caroline suspects that it could easily become her favourite past time.

She practices it often that night.

When they make to leave in the early dawn hours, scrambling to put together serviceable outfits (Caroline commandeers his jacket since her dress has to be knotted around her waist), the clearing looks much different than it had when they'd found it. Caroline had never been to a tropical island but she thinks the blooms, in vibrant pinks and oranges, look like they belong on one.

At least the one she'd set out to conjure was among them. Klaus pockets the violets, tossing her a smirk, "Evidently multiple orgasms give your abilities a remarkable boost, love. How fascinating."

She does a slow spin, taking in the clearing dubiously, "I… had no idea I was doing this. What if…" she trails off anxiety filling her. The flowers were harmless (though she'd definitely be recruiting her hybrid body guards to help her rip them up and transport them to her greenhouse so they didn't risk totally destroying the bayou's ecosystems). What if something worse was to happen the next time she lost control? "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"You can't hurt me," Klaus points out reasonably. "Which makes me the ideal partner for future experiments, wouldn't you say?"

He seems immensely pleased with the idea and Caroline cracks a smile. "Funny, you never struck me as the science type."

"I do prefer the disciplines that are more… flexible it's true. For you, however, I'll make any number of exceptions."

Caroline ducks her head, hiding her widening grin, the blush she knows is spreading across her face. Klaus takes her hand, tugs her in the direction of the path.

She'd assumed the truth of Klaus' words, had gleaned enough from the snide comments of his siblings, his occasional bouts of frustration as he fumbled through a conversation that he couldn't bully or manipulate his way through. She'd never had kissed him if her gut hadn't told her this was real.

Still, Caroline was a science person, had three quarters of an honors degree in biochemistry. She liked facts and hearing Klaus confirm that whatever she was to him was singular, unique, was better than just strongly suspecting it.

It was enough to soothe her worries.

She'll have to design some trials. Later. She and Klaus had more pressing matters – he'd made several big promises - to attend to first.


	84. When We First Met

**Notes: **Posted on Tumblr a few days back. AH and shameless fluff.

**When We First Met**

**(Prompt: "I called you hot and randomly made out with you on the street for a youtube video, but you made out with me back so I don't know what to do now." Title from "Strange Times" by The Black Keys. Rated K+)**

_**Present…**_

Watching Katherine Pierce – usually the baddest bitch in the room – lose her mind in the back of a town car (because her new boyfriend, the one Caroline's about to meet, was really fancy) is highly entertaining. Kat's got every available light turned on and a mirror out, deeply absorbed in a critical study of her lipstick.

It's perfect, as is the rest of Kat's makeup, but Caroline's not feeling charitable enough to offer any sort of reassurance. She's messing around on her phone, checking the stats on the video she'd uploaded to her channel yesterday. It's doing well, the number of hits and comments and thumbs up steadily climbing. She can't bring herself to _read_ any of the comments internet strangers are making. Not yet, anyway.

Keeping her face impassive Caroline tucks her phone away in her clutch, "What is it this Elijah guy does again?"

"He's a lawyer, family business."

Caroline glances around the interior – motioning towards the rich leather seats and plush upholstery – "Must be _some_ business."

The car rolls to a stop, distracting Kat before she can reply to the taunt. She blows out a nervous breath. "I guess we're here."

"Guess so!" Caroline chirps. "Tell me, do you think I should go chronologically or in order of severity when I give him the play by play of all your most humiliating moments?"

Kat's eyes narrow, her lips thinning. "Caroline…" she warns and most people would back off at the implied threat. Katherine makes no attempt to placate or plead, that's not how she works.

Unfortunately for Katherine, Caroline's not most people. She knows exactly how much of Kat is bark and how much is bite and is _much_ harder to intimidate.

"I'm leaning towards severity," Caroline continues, pitching her voice to maximum perkiness just to be annoying. "Really build to a crescendo, you know? You of all people should appreciate the dramatic possibilities."

The driver opens the door and Caroline hurries to slip out before Kat can begin threatening her in earnest. She knows that someday she'll be on the other end, Katherine Pierce doesn't forgive and she certainly doesn't forget. But that day's not today, might even be a long ways off given Caroline's current lack of romantic options. Caroline figures she deserves to have a little fun. Kat totally deserved to squirm a little.

_**A Few Days Earlier…**_

Caroline knows she's in for it before Kat even begins to read. Her friend's eyes had widened when she'd unfolded the slip of paper and her lips had pinched together like they always did when Katherine was trying not to smirk. When she speaks there's a slight quiver to her voice, a tell-tale sign that she wants to laugh. Kat's not really one to let a little thing like friendship hold her back from taking joy in Caroline's mortification so she's braced herself for the worst.

Caroline had been reluctant to do this video – subscriber submitted dares – but it had been highly requested so she'd relented. She'd just been beginning to think she was going to end the day without deep regrets but judging from the palpable glee Katherine was now vibrating with Caroline's optimism was about to be crushed.

Kat looks to the camera and Caroline's sure she's waggling her flawless brows suggestively, playing up the suspense. "And now, for our third and final dare of the day, we have ourselves a doozie, lovely subscribers."

Caroline shifts restlessly. Intellectually she knows that Kat's just building anticipation, that it'll make the video better, but it's not helping with the sinking feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Her mom was mostly supportive of the odd side-career she'd fallen into while toiling in an office pool by day - the YouTube _did_ channel help pay her bills and she genuinely liked it – but Caroline knew she'd hear about it, that the sheriff voice _would_ be deployed, if she did something that skirted the edge of legality.

Kat's leaned into the camera, "Thumbs up to whoever submitted this one. _You_ are obviously _my_ kind of people."

_That_ was not a comforting statement.

She catches Caroline's eye for a moment, her grin widening, "Your task, should you choose to accept it, and you _will_, tell the next guy you see that he's super-hot and _plant_ one on him. Tongue optional but I vote you go for it."

Bonnie and Elena, who've been roped into handling the behind the scenes technicalities today, let out a chorus of 'oooohhh' (the likes of which Caroline's not heard since middle school) before falling into giggles that they hastily muffle.

Given the dare Caroline supposes it's totally appropriate that they've regressed to their tween selves.

Aware that they're filming Caroline throws her arm over Kat's shoulder, glaring in a manner that she hopes comes across as playful, "Yeah, somehow I'm really not buying that these picks are all that _random_."

Katherine, of course, is immediately the picture of innocence, blinking her pretty brown eyes and feigning hurt with the slightest wobble of her lower lip, "Caroline, I would _never_. I take my duties as the dare puller _incredibly_ seriously. I can't believe you don't _trust_ me."

Considering Kat's been bugging Caroline about her non-existent social life for forever there's no way Caroline buys that. But she'd bet at least part of her audience would so she drops it. She really didn't want to be flooded with comments about what an evil bitch she was, and how she should be nicer to her friends.

Well, she drops it or _now_. Later? Revenge will be hers.

Kat's been seeing someone, keeping it mysterious which means she's _really_ into him. Caroline's got a lifetime of Kat's greatest hits to embarrass her with and there's no way she's going to hold back now. The poor guy won't know that hit him. Caroline throws up her hands and lets out a huff, directing her attention back to the camera. She adopts a resigned air and lifts a finger, "Condition one, I reserve the right to veto. I'm not making out with anyone who's missing all his teeth."

"Don't knock older men," Kat jokes. "Experience is always a plus. Maybe teeth just get in the way."

"Gross," Caroline mutters, wrinkling her nose. "Condition two, he has to at least be a _little_ into it."

Kat darts a pointed glance to the deep v of the sundress Caroline's wearing, "Your boobs look great today, cupcake. That'll help."

She'd blush but she's too used to Katherine so she just plows ahead, "Condition three, we _immediately_ flee the scene. I mean it, I am _not_ sticking around for an awkward explanation, okay?"

"Yeah yeah. We'll run like the wind. Are you done stalling? Or do you need me to run you through how French kissing works? I know it's been awhile."

She flips Kat off without thinking. They're going to have to edit that out. Caroline smooths her hair, hopes her nerves aren't too visible, "Let's just get this over with."

Kat claps her hands together, doing a terrible job of hiding her anticipation. "I'm going to count to three. You're going to turn. Find your lucky mark and do your thing, Carebear."

She gives the count, Elena and Bonnie joining in, and Caroline crosses her fingers as she whirls. The first person she sees is a woman pushing a stroller. The second is the man holding the door to a nearby coffee shop open for them. Caroline pauses, initially assuming he's _with_ them (she figured that vetoing married guys didn't _need_ to be verbalized), but the woman ducks into the shop and he makes for the sidewalk, a to-go cup in his hand.

Squaring her shoulders – because she's never been able to resist a dare even if she grumbled about it – she takes a determined step in his direction.

Only to stop short and yelp when Kat slaps her ass.

Katherine shrugs innocently, not at all perturbed by the lethal glare Caroline's sending her way. "What? It was for luck."

"You are so dead later, Katherine!" she hisses before making a beeline towards her target. She studies him as she walks, can feel her friends on her heels. He's the kind of hot that she'd take a second look at normally - all tousled dark blonde curls, great cheekbones and full lips. He's dressed casually with the sleeves of his grey t-shirt pushed up and walks confidently, easily sidestepping fellow pedestrians even though most of his attention is trained on his phone.

Caroline takes a steadying breath and steps directly into his path and he stops short, surprise flickering across his face.

The face that's even better up close.

Ugh, her palms are getting sweaty.

His eyes drift over her shoulder, brow furrowing in confusion as he stows his phone. Caroline takes another deep breath, knows that he's taking in the camera trained on him and her eagerly observing friends. "Hello," she stutters out, lifting her hand in a finger-wiggling wave that is so, _so_ dorky.

His attention swings back to her and he looks intrigued and not alarmed so Caroline counts that as a win. "Afternoon, love. How can I…"

She cuts him off which is kinda rude but Caroline's got lines here. She raises her voice slightly to ensure the mic will pick it up, "You're really hot."

He blinks in surprise, a hint of a smile beginning to curl his lips but she reaches out and cups his jaw, and draws his mouth to hers. He's only a couple inches taller than she is so she doesn't need to lift up much to brush her lips over his. His are slightly parted, firm and plush, and he inhales sharply as she presses harder.

He's completely unresisting, returning the tentative pressure. Caroline decides to just go with it. Because of the views, she tells herself. _Not_ because it seems like it would be a shame to end this kiss at just a taste.

She slides her hand into his hair and deepens the kiss, getting a faint hint of coffee as she licks into his mouth. She feels one of his arms wrap around her waist yanking her into the line of his body. Caroline goes willingly, crowding closer until they're connected thigh to chest, their legs tangling together.

It doesn't take her long to completely forget they have an audience.

The kiss flares hot, alternately combative and sweet as they learn each other, and Caroline's hands start to roam. He makes a low sound of approval when her nails dig into his shoulders, the hand he's got on her back drifting up to stroke the bare skin between the top of her dress and the nape of her neck. Something splashes against her legs and Caroline dimly remembers that he'd been holding a drink, but then he's got a hand clutching her waist, his palm hot through the thin cotton of her dress.

Even if her shoes get ruined it's totally worth it.

Caroline registers the theatrical cough behind her but ignores it, too enamoured with discovering the leather cords he wears tucked under the collar of his shirt. He shudders slightly when she brushes her fingers against his throat and Caroline wonders what he'd do if she used her mouth on the same spot.

Kat's voice breaks the mood, amused and abrasive, "Caroline! We've got to keep this PG, remember? Please stop mauling the hot man."

She tears her mouth away from him with a gasp, her fingers flying up to her lips. They're wet and swollen and when his eyes drift open they're tantalizingly dark, a hint of displeasure in them growing as the distance between their bodies lengthens. Her eyes drop to watch his tongue glide along his lower lip and she almost steps back into him.

But no. She can't. This was a _dare_. For her YouTube channel.

Caroline stumbles back a step, her legs shaky, groping for words.

She manages to find only one. "Flee," she croaks out. That had been the plan, right? Plans were good.

Katherine lets out a derisive snort but Caroline gropes blindly behind her, latching onto Kat's arms. "We're fleeing," she insists firmly, yanking Katherine back in the direction they'd come.

Kat's muttering protests and she vaguely hears Bonnie and Elena adding their two cents. Caroline barely hears them. Bonnie wonders why she didn't get his number, at least a name, given how into the kiss she'd seemed.

"Because we're fleeing, duh," Caroline snaps. Her friends fall silent, but it's not a comfortable one. She'll smooth it over later, knows she can't manage an appropriate amount of contrition right now. She's too busy trying to calm her racing heart and her brain is far too occupied with rehashing the best kiss she's had in _years_.

_**Present…**_

Caroline's feeling great as she trails behind the hostess. Their party, Elijah and one of his brothers, had already arrived they'd been told. She wonders if Kat had thought a buffer would be helpful or if Elijah was nervous too (which yeah, was kind of endearing). Caroline's turning heads in her little black dress, swaying her hips more than strictly necessary, anticipation bubbling in her veins. It's rare that Kat gets to be the one on the hot seat, her natural ruthlessness meaning she usually comes out on top.

Caroline's going to enjoy the rare spectacle of her best friend squirming and anxious.

She's got a smile pasted on, prepared to make nice at least until they've ordered, but it drops when she takes in the table's occupants. She knows the guys in the suit is Elijah, had endured Kat's nearly pornographic rhapsodizing about the way his jackets were tailored.

It's the other man who has her faltering, frozen in place. He'd looked fantastic in afternoon light but here, clean shaven and sleekly dressed in black, he's the kind of good looking that you want to avert your eyes from. He's momentarily shocked by the sight of her, his mouth falling open. But then he smiles, slow and distinctly pleased.

She might be blushing as their eye contact lengthens and she completely fails at taking a seat, she certainly _feels_ warm.

Kat had paused beside her and she makes the connections just as quickly as Caroline had. She finds her voice first, "Well, well, well," Katherine drawls. "What an interesting turn of events."

Caroline briefly considers fleeing again even if it would be cowardly. Her feet are rooted to the spot, refusing to obey her brain's commands. Maybe because she'd been dwelling on that kiss, and this guy, during her every waking moment (and some of her sleeping moments) since it had happened. He's rising from the table, seemingly intent on approaching her, his expression warm and playful.

This evening might end in disaster, she knows Kat's already plotting. Caroline can't bring herself to mind. Not enough to leave.

Whatever happens at least now she'll finally have a name.


	85. I Like Your Style

**Notes: **Another AH thing. Smut this time ;)

**I Like Your Style**

**(Prompt: kc + "I bet I can dance/move/act like that and I don't even have to be a dancer/stripper/actor/whatever wait are you turned on?" sex. SMUT.)**

When his doorbell rings at 8:17 PM on a Wednesday, when he's not expecting a soul, Klaus decides to ignore it. He firmly believes that dropping by - uninvited _and_ unannounced – is a never a good idea. His phone hasn't made a sound all evening and surely if there were some sort of emergency someone would have tried to call first. He shifts on the couch, sinking deeper into the cushions, and continues with his Netflix surfing.

It's difficult to concentrate, he idly scrolls without really absorbing anything, as the doorbell will not stop. If anything his guest becomes _more_ persistent the longer there's no answer, making the irritating ringing infinitely more so by tapping out a melody of short chimes and long clangs that are familiar. And _not_ in a good way.

Klaus is given a brief reprieve, a moment of blessed silence, and he thinks he just might have managed to out stubborn the doorbell maestro.

Only to be immediately treated to another, equally impassioned, performance. Which just about pushes the limit of Klaus' patience.

He tosses his remote aside and pushes himself to his feet before stalking towards the front door. A passing glance at the mirror in his hallway tells him he's probably not fit to receive company, he'd already showered and hadn't bothered with a shirt, but since he's reasonably certain he doesn't actually _like_ his visitor (he might not be able to place the song but it was _awful_) he doesn't feel the need to make himself presentable.

An impulse he regrets upon first opening the door. Caroline Forbes might not have been invited but, standing on his porch in a yellow sundress, her blonde curls loose about her shoulders, she's far from unwelcome. Klaus is already fully aware of her questionable taste in music and since it had been a boon to him just last week he can't claim it's a deal breaker. Her lovely blue eyes widen, her sunny smile dimming slightly as her eyes drop, raking over his torso. There's a hint of shock, a healthy amount of interest, and more than a dollop of heat as her gaze lingers over his shoulders before flickering lower.

Perhaps there's something to be said for not being presentable. He _might_ even flex a little as he crosses his arms and leans against the wall just inside the doorway, silently waiting for Caroline to realize she's quite shamelessly objectifying him.

He doesn't mind but he can't resist the opportunity to see her blush. It's only unfortunate that there were witnesses because Klaus knows she's likely to deny any discomfiture later.

Caroline visibly shakes herself, her spine straightening, and meets his eyes once more. There's a brief flash of chagrin but determination quickly masks any embarrassment. When she speaks it's friendly, suspiciously so, "Hey, Klaus. Are you busy?"

He glances down at himself pointedly, "Not particularly. Why do you ask?"

"Because I think it's time we settle our little disagreement." Caroline tells him.

Klaus wracks his brain, trying to figure out what she means. He and Caroline disagree – frequently and often at great volume, much to the amusement of his siblings and their assorted friends – so narrowing it down isn't easy. He'd seen Caroline just last Sunday at a dinner at Rebekah's (a monthly affair where she ordered gourmet takeout, plated it on her designer table wear, and pretended like she knew how to operate her range). Caroline had spent the evening gleefully taunting him about his love for the pop group they'd taken in a few days prior. Klaus had been roped into chaperoning Henrik who, in the midst of an epic teenage puppy love, had wanted to take his girlfriend to see her favorite group. Klaus, unwilling to face a crush of teenagers alone had in turn managed to cajole (and bribe) Caroline into tagging along. He was supposed to help her paint her living room this weekend, the price they'd agreed on.

He'd thought he'd gotten off easy. Klaus enjoyed painting and Caroline's company and had been dreading the concert.

The flashing lights, high pitched screams, and so called music had been almost bearable with Caroline at his side, bright and joyous and dancing along with the crowd and occasionally leaning in close so he could hear her poke fun at his stoicism. At one point she'd turned in his direction when Klaus hadn't been expecting it and he'd quickly faced the stage, adopted a look of concentration so she'd not realize he'd been intently watching _her_, and not the spectacle he'd paid an exorbitant amount of money to witness.

He'd overdone it and Caroline had taken his feigned interest in the performance as a sign that he was a secret girl groupie (her words, not his). She'd begun texting him gossip about the band member's tumultuous love lives and links to interviews posted on YouTube the next day.

He's mostly been ignoring it, certain that any heated denials would be taken as further proof of his supposed ardor. Eventually he and Caroline would find another subject to spar over. They always did.

None of that tells him what pressing disagreement she thinks needs to be solved immediately.

She shifts her weight when he remains silent, hefting a large bag he's just now noticing higher on her shoulder. "I'm going to need your bathroom for like twenty minutes. And I'll have to borrow a chair."

That just confuses Klaus all the more. "I'm lost, sweetheart."

She lets out an annoyed huff, pointedly keeping her eyes trained on a spot somewhere to the left of his head. "You told me all your drooling at the concert was over the 'grace and athleticism' of the dancing, remember? Which I called bullshit on, of course. But you were all blah blah blah artistry blah blah blah years of training."

Klaus fights a wince, recalling that particular argument. It wasn't his finest moment but he'd had to come up with _something_ to explain away what she'd seen as fascination. And then Caroline had gotten so offended, calling the choreography 'cookie cutter sexbot thrusting' and he hadn't been able to resist countering, just to see her color heighten and her hands gesture wildly as she attempted to prove her point.

It was his usual instinct, one he rarely bothered fighting. Really, it was a miracle Caroline hadn't realized his interest. Every single one of their mutual acquaintances had remarked on it. Klaus was certain there was a betting pool.

"And you're going to prove me wrong… how?"

Caroline's smile is a slow thing, hinting at an ace up her sleeve, and Klaus is both wary and intrigued. She meets his eyes, hers filled with challenge, "Why don't you let me in and I'll show you?"

Wordlessly, Klaus steps aside, waving her in. Sucks in a harsh breath when she pats his stomach, her hand lingering in a way that feels deliberate. She doesn't look at him, merely strides ahead. "Living room first," she calls. "We're going to need to move some furniture."

He still has very little idea of what's happening but Klaus follows Caroline's lead. Obliges her when she asks him to push his couch against one wall, the coffee table against another. She seems to consider the rug but then decides it can stay. She avoids his gaze, manner brisk and businesslike, only stopping when he taunts her about it, pride stealing across her expressive face. Her eyelids grow heavy when she looks at him a new weight and anticipation there. She stands close to him, closer than necessary, doesn't shy away when his skin brushes against her bare arm or her clothed back. When the room has been rearranged to her specifications she nods her satisfaction. "Perfect. Time for wardrobe. I'll be right back." She collects her bag and strolls from the room before Klaus can think to pepper her with questions.

He settles in to wait, finds he can't mourn the change in his evening's plans. Not when it seems like Caroline's are going to turn out to be far superior.

* * *

She strives for calm as she changes, rolling on the shimmery fishnets and wriggling into the black leotard she'd tracked down yesterday. The scoop neck was modest but it was cut low in the back. Somehow it still managed to keep her boobs in place so Caroline figured it was worth the drive out to the dance shop she hadn't even known existed until this plan had occurred to her.

It had seemed genius at the time. Now, minutes away from actually doing it Caroline can admit that it was a little crazy. That she didn't do her best thinking in the middle of the night when she'd been tossing and turning and mentally rehearsing new rebuttals and quips for the next time she saw Klaus.

She notices her hands starting to shake when she retrieves her makeup bag and she sets it down carefully, taking a deep breath. Clown makeup was not on the agenda for the evening. Though if her lipstick happened to get smeared later on she wouldn't be objecting.

She eyes her phone, resting innocently on the countertop, and debates calling one of her friends for a chat. They'd all been dragged to a dance class over the last week, some more good naturedly than others, and they'd probably be good for a pep talk (Elena) or at least willing to listen to her vent her nerves (Bonnie).

If Caroline called Kat she'd likely even get yet _another_ lecture about how she really didn't need to try so hard, that she could have saved herself the muscle strain and expense if she'd just shown up at Klaus' door in a trench coat and some fuck me heels. 'I don't even like him, Caroline,' she'd said a few days ago, after taking a deep drink of wine. "And I _hate_ lending people my shoes. But I will do it, for you. And for me, so I don't have to listen to your verbal foreplay _ever_ again."

Caroline had insisted that she absolutely was not trying to _seduce_ Klaus, that it was just her duty to prove to him how very wrong he was about what constituted good dancing. She'd specifically planned to show up today because no one thought _Wednesday_ was an appropriate day for a booty call. She'd been snippy and irritated that her friends hadn't bought a single word of her denials.

Standing in Klaus' bathroom, jittery and nervous but also excited, Caroline's beginning to realize that she might owe each of them an apology while she sat through rounds of 'I told you so.'

Assuming this whole thing didn't blow up in her face and she didn't have to flee to another state in humiliation.

If she pounces on him Caroline is totally going to blame it on the fact that Klaus had opened the door looking rumpled and delicious, more skin on display than she'd ever seen. Her carefully rehearsed speech had fled and she'd had a brief, _very_ distracting, fantasy about dropping her bag and reaching for him with no further preliminaries.

Those kinds of thoughts about Klaus weren't exactly new. His face had been popping up in her fantasy repertoire regularly, beginning back when he was just an acquaintance with nice hands and a voice that she was sure was made for dirty talk. He'd begun appearing with more frequency as they'd gotten to know each other because as much as he infuriated her sometimes Caroline always walked away from their little spats feeling energized, ready to go another round or twelve just to watch the way his lips curled and his dimples peeked out when he smirked.

It was only natural, she'd told herself, to wonder how their dynamic – the push pull of it that left her heated and excited – would translate with them naked.

Caroline draws herself up to her full height and pushes those thoughts away before they can take root. Right now wasn't the time, she refuses to be blushing and nervous when she walked out there. Her motives might have shifted but she still had a point to prove. Caroline concentrates on fluffing up her curls in the mirror before reaching for her makeup again, taking a deep steadying breath. She had a plan and she was committed to executing it. She'd just get through the steps she'd laid out, nice and easy, one after the other. It was time to get her game face on.

Pessimism wasn't her thing and at least, _if_ things went horribly, going to insane lengths to win an argument was totally in character. She could spin it, weather the friendly ribbing that came her way, and go back to being Klaus' friend slash adversary like nothing had happened.

If she took a shot and fell flat maybe she could finally get over her silly little crush. And on the bright side, if her shot hit its mark, she wouldn't have to. Her friends would still mock her, of course. But Klaus was totally petty enough to join her in some serious revenge PDA so Caroline knew she'd still come out the winner.

* * *

He paces, curiosity raging, straining to hear anything from down the hallway, itching for the tiniest hint about what Caroline has planned. The use of the word 'wardrobe' was particularly intriguing, suggesting that Caroline was in a state of undress in his bathroom, something he struggles not to dwell on knowing full well his attire won't hide much. Unfortunately, not a peep makes it to his ears, and Klaus is left to torture himself with possibilities, most of them likely too good to be true, until the bathroom door creaks back open and he hears her step out of the bathroom.

At which point he throws himself on to the couch, crosses his ankle over his opposite knee, all in an effort to look natural and nonchalant.

It's a wasted effort as Klaus is certain that the way his lips part, body stiffening in shock as Caroline walks back into the living room are most illuminating and he's grateful his legs will obscure the visible tent in his sweats caused by his swelling cock. He swallows heavily, taking in the sleek lines of her body, lovingly outlined in very little fabric. What covers her clings deliciously and his hands itch to skim over her curves. He's always liked her legs, has vivid desires involving them wrapped about his hips, and they seem especially endless and tempting in the stockings she wears. Caroline tosses him a smug smile, flipping her hair over her shoulder, resting a hand on her hip. "My eyes are up here," she taunts.

Klaus clears his throat, "Caroline, wh…" he trails off, uncertain of just what he means to ask. There are so many possibilities. 'What are you wearing?' "What are you doing?' "Why are you all the way across the room when you could be in my lap?'

He should probably work up to that last bit.

Her laugh is warm, a touch mischievous. There's a slight relaxing of her posture and her confidence radiates in the swaying of her hips as she takes a few steps towards him. There's nothing but innocence in her expression, too much to be natural. "I'm proving a point. I haven't taken a dance class since college but I bet I can do it just as well as those girls you were eyeing."

He takes a second to digest that, to ponder the implications. "You're going to… dance? Now? In that?" He's helpless not to gesture, cringing because he _knows_ he sounds like an imbecile.

Caroline's fingertips stroke across the neckline of her top, head tipped to the side quizzically, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Klaus clenches his teeth together because the words he wants to blurt out – that the only thing _wrong_ with the clingy black scraps of fabric she had on what that he wasn't entirely certain he could remove them expediently – was probably unwise. "Nothing," he manages, clipped and terse.

Caroline doesn't seem to take offense, if anything she looks pleased. "Well, now that we've established what I'm doing here, why don't you take a seat? I'll be out of your hair in under a half hour, don't you worry."

She breezes away, towards the kitchen, before Klaus can argue with her assumption that he wants her gone.

No matter. He'll make a point of correcting it later.

* * *

Caroline works quickly, dragging one of Klaus' kitchen chairs into the center of his living room, hooking up her phone to his stereo system. It only takes a moment – she'd monopolized the music at a party he'd thrown once or twice, or every single time, even though he complained incessantly – and she doesn't let herself look at him.

A girl only had so much self-control.

He hadn't bothered to put a shirt on and he wears only a pair of sweatpants, slung low enough that it's entirely possible he's not wearing anything underneath them. She wants to ask him about the tattoos, wants to discover the texture of his skin, to see if he'll shudder when she traces his hipbone with her tongue.

She'd want to throw herself at him even if he hadn't been watching her every move with lust darkened eyes, the lines of his body taut, a struggle painted clear across his face.

He wanted her. Of that Caroline had no more doubts.

She gets into position, facing Klaus with the chair in front of her, setting a hand on the upper rung, letting her hair fall down to curtain her face. The music begins, slow and sultry, and she begins to sway her hips in time, bending deeper with every eight count. Caroline's certain she hears a noise, a tiny pained groan, and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She swings a leg over the top of the chair, pausing to turn in profile and run her hand along her thigh as she catches Klaus' eye. She spins, and drapes herself across it, extending her legs and dipping low over the other side, arching her back to pull herself up, her hand coming up to play with her hair. She twists, facing him, easing her thighs open as she glances up to gauge Klaus' reaction and she loses the beat once she sees that he's moving.

His jaw is clenched tight and Caroline's eyes widen when he looms over her. He pauses for a second, his eyes tracing a hot path down the line of her body. She fights the urge to squirm but then Klaus is dropping to his knees between her thighs, surging up and cupping her jaw before tugging her closer. She goes willingly, eagerly, slipping off the chair and grasping his shoulders for purchase. Klaus smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arm around her waist and hauling into him, chest to knee, shoving the chair away carelessly. He pulls back enough to speak though the patterns he's tracing along her spine are distracting. "Perhaps I'll concede. Just this once."

Her laugh is breathy, "Yeah, you'll concede. You really are into the whole cheesy choreography thing, huh?"

He shakes his head, a touch exasperated, "I barely saw those girls, Caroline. I was looking at you and you almost caught me."

She doesn't bother fighting the pleased smile. "Noted. Totally kicking myself for putting all the effort into learning a routine now. I didn't even get to the good part."

Klaus increases the distance between them, intrigue flickering across his face, "The good part?""

Caroline's not having that. "Later," she murmurs, burying her hand in his hair. "Assuming you don't suck at the sex thing."

Klaus is unable to take that as anything but a challenge, just as Caroline had intended. He uses his arm to lift her, his hand coming up to cradle her head as he lays her on her back. He props himself up on one elbow, settling into the cradle of her thighs and leaning down to kiss her once more. There's less urgency now, the heat builds slowly, his tongue teasing and stroking as their breath quickens and her hips push up searching for friction. Klaus' hand begins to wander, his exploration gentle. He strokes her throat and her head tips back with an encouraging sigh. He pulls his mouth from hers, dragging kisses lower as his fingertips trace her collarbone, hooking into the neckline of her leotard. He tugs enough to bare one breast, his touch gentle on the slope before finding her nipple. It begins to firm as he toys with it, tightening under the roughening circles of his thumb, making Caroline shift restlessly. He glances down, lips parted. "Lovelier than I'd imagined," he murmurs. His hand leaves her, head dipping. His lips close over her nipple, Caroline arches up with a moan and he attempts to push the fabric further down. It resists and Caroline lets out a noise of protest as Klaus pulls back, brow furrowed in vexation, "I need this _off_. How does one remove it?"

She'd laugh at how puzzled he seems, makes a mental note to joke about it later, but it's not the time for humor, not with her skin tingling and a persistent ache between her thighs. She pushes him back slightly, hooking a leg over his hip so he doesn't go far, and tugs a strap down her shoulder in impatient jerks. The other quickly follows and Klaus seems eager to help, rolling the leotard down her torso. Caroline hooks her thumbs in her tights, wiggling her hips so they come off too. Klaus freezes for a moment. "You weren't wearing anything under that," he mutters, almost to himself, sounding strained.

He's stopped undressing her and Caroline's not having that. Letting out an annoyed huff she bends her knee up to get one leg free, biting her lip to keep from moaning when she presses against Klaus' cock, straining behind a single layer of fabric. "It's not very forgiving. I didn't want lines. Besides, pretty sure I am not the only one going commando here." This time she grinds up deliberately and a shudder wracks Klaus' frame. She runs her nails along his spine, one drifting up to tug at the curls at the base of his neck, the other pushing under the waistband of his sweats. His head bows, a harsh breath panted against her throat and he rears up, shoving their remaining clothes aside. This time she's helpless to resist the urge to reach for him, sitting up when he moves to hover over her again, pushing at his shoulder until he gets the hint and rolls onto his back.

Caroline wraps her hand around his cock, slinging a leg over his hips and shaking her hair back. She strokes him, rubbing her thumb over the tip, relishing his harsh inhale. Just like when they argue Klaus is completely unwilling to let her win, pulling himself up and brushing her hands aside. He angles his head and kisses her, tempting her to part her lips with a lush swipe of his tongue, a hand on her hip urging her to move against him. Her mouth falls open as she sinks deeper into the kiss, thighs widening as she searches for friction. She gasps when she feels his fingers, parting her folds and coming away slick.

She's been turned on since she started to dance, ready for him to be inside her since he'd first put his mouth on her nipple. Klaus seems intent on teasing her with light indirect touches to her clit that tighten the knots in her stomach but give her no relief. His other hand is greedy for all the skin it can reach, smoothing over her back and ass, sneaking between them to palm a breast. Caroline bites down on his shoulder and Klaus hisses, taking the hint and easing a finger inside. "More," she rasps, soothing the mark she'd left.

He obeys, adding a second and pressing his hand tightly to her. She begins to ride his fingers in earnest, thighs trembling when the heel of his hand rubs against her clit. He groans, leaning back to watch her face, "Just like that Caroline. Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this? Trembling and breathless and wet because of me."

Hopefully nearly as many times as she has.

He curls his fingers, rubbing against a spot inside of her that has her head falling back and her vision going hazy, "Tell me," she demands, in a voice that's hoarse and edged in need.

Klaus obliges, and she'd totally been right about his voice. Thickened with his own arousal it's mesmerizing, "The little dresses you favor make it impossible not to think about sneaking my hand underneath your skirt when we're at a bar or out to dinner. I'd stroke your thighs, a silent question, and you'd spread them for me, eager for my touch. In my mind you've been wet and hot around my fingers dozens upon dozens of times. I think about getting you off under a table while you flush prettily and try not to squirm when you come."

She whines, moving faster, inordinately pleased that his fantasies seem closely aligned with hers.

Caroline swallows hard, rolling her head forward to look at him. His face is tight with strain, lips reddened and swollen. She manages a broken inhale, scrambling to put together a coherent sentence, "Well, we are supposed to do drinks on Friday…"

He makes a harsh noise, low in his throat, his hand easing away from her. Caroline's mouth drops open but his next words stills her protest, "I need a condom."

She shakes her head, "I have the implant and I don't have anything. Are you…"

"Disease free? Yes."

That's good enough for her. She trusts him and she wants him and stopping right now when she's so close seems like torture. She lifts up higher onto her knees and reaches down, their fingers tangle but they get him positioned and Caroline sinks down with a moan, looking down to watch him slide inside of her. He grips her hips tightly when he's all the way in, his body a solid line of tension against hers. She fights the hold, needing to _move_, and he eases up with a groan, reaching to tease her clit again when she begins to rock over him. It's probably not graceful, more frantic than finessed, but Klaus doesn't seem to mind, little noises of need spilling from him every time she takes him back inside of her. Their skin heats and slickens and soon she's short of breath and the best kind of dizzy.

Caroline cries out as his fingers rub against her with more purpose and she begins to shake, gripping him as her orgasm builds. "You're so close, sweetheart," Klaus murmurs. "Let go for me. I want to watch you fall apart."

She slumps into him when it hits her, muffling her cry in his skin and Klaus' arms tighten around her as he lets go, snapping his hips up into hers as he chases his own release. He bites out a sharp curse, a reverent whisper of her name, before he collapses back onto the floor, Caroline following him down. They shift for a minute to get comfortable, and Caroline squirms as he slips out of her before settling against him.

The music's long stopped and she lays her head over his chest, listens to his heart slow as he sifts his hands through her hair. When she feels like she can talk without wheezing she peeks up, only to find Klaus' eyes closed, his expression content. As if he feels her watching his eyes slit open and he smiles, "Something on your mind?"

So many things.

She bites her lip and Klaus' eyes flare with a new rush of heat as he watches, "Okay, first, I legitimately did not plan to seduce you."

Klaus appears dubious, "You planned to dance for me, wearing what you were wearing, but it wasn't a seduction?"

Okay, fine, when you put it like that it sounded bad.

"I didn't _consciously_ decide to seduce you," she amends.

He presses his lips together like he's trying not to laugh. "Well, remind me to do something nice for your subconscious someday. It obviously has discerning tastes and an admirable sense of initiative."

She pokes him in the side, narrowing her eyes in a glare. He couldn't seriously be mocking her, could he? They were naked and she could feel their combined release coating the inside of her thighs.

Klaus ducks his head and tugs her upwards with his grip on her hair, kissing her until her lips soften and cling to his. He pulls back enough to speak softly, "I'd intended to ask you to dinner for ages. We always just seem to sink into bickering before I can manage and then it seems like bad timing."

"Oh," Caroline says, slightly mollified. "Maybe you should be less of a dick then."

Klaus laughs, "I think that's unlikely. Perhaps you should be less easy to bait, hmm?"

Caroline has to admit that also seems unlikely. She sits up and notes the way Klaus eyes her breasts hungrily. She moves away before he can make the move he's clearly considering, "Compromise," she offers. "We bicker _while_ we do date things. Starting with food. Now. Then more sex things."

Klaus reaches over his head in a stretch, and she kind of can't fault him for ogling her boobs, not when she takes a very long look at the way his pale skin stretches over the lean muscles of his abdomen, letting her eyes linger on his cock that seems to be twitching back into readiness. He doesn't seem to mind the scrutiny, folding his hands under his head, "That's a compromise I can live with. I do like the bickering and I've heard excellent things about make up sex."

Caroline doesn't look at him as she stands and makes her way to the bathroom. She's going to need sustenance because she knows she won't be able to resist picking a fight with _that_ statement lingering between them.

Could make up sex with Klaus even _be_ better than the sex they'd just had? Her legs are shaky and she feels fantastic so Caroline's skeptical.

But not at all opposed to experimenting.


	86. Under The New Sun

**Notes: **After a fairly terrible couple of days at work last week I needed a little fluff in my life. So I wrote some things! This was the first one.

**Under The New Sun**

**(Prompt: "I came to your house for a sleepover but you weren't here your house was trashed and when I found you again the next day you were naked and without any recognitions of what had happened" werewolf au" Title from "It's A Curse" by Wolf Parade. Rated T. )**

Klaus has come prepared and approaches Caroline's front door armed with coffee (black for him, a caramel syrup laden monstrosity for her). He's also got bag full of donuts because he's planning on starting a difficult conversation he figures Caroline might find 'By the way, I'm a werewolf' easier to swallow if she's stuffed with sugar and chocolate.

It's an overly optimistic thought, a sure sign of Caroline's effect on him. And while he wasn't banking on her taking the news without blinking Klaus did rather think she was fond enough of him to keep an open mind. They'd known one another for months now, surely she'd accept him? That's what he'd been telling himself. Truthfully, he hadn't allowed himself to contemplate a world in which she couldn't be won over. Caroline had come to mean a great deal to him and Klaus wasn't one to let go of people he considered his.

He assumes that possessiveness is a quirk of his nature though he can't know for sure. He's had very little contact with other werewolves.

Klaus glances up when he reaches the porch, his muscles locking as he takes Caroline's open front door. The coffee and the food hit the pavement, immediately forgotten, and he takes the steps at a near sprint, panic clawing at him.

He barrels through the doorway calling her name, doesn't even wince as the door slams into the wall. His alarm grows as he takes in the mess inside. He's been a frequent visitor to Caroline's home these last few months. Initially it had been pristine, the sort of clean that you're afraid to eat in for fear of marring it. She'd relaxed as they'd gotten to know one another, left things slightly askew – a hamper of laundry left out here, an untidy stack of magazines there - and Klaus has spent many an evening comfortably eating takeout and arguing about Netflix selections in Caroline's living room.

Something that's going to be difficult to do again given the current state of the place.

Caroline's couch is on its side, wood frame exposed and in pieces, spilling stuffing across the wood floors. The coffee table and rug are shoved across the room and it looks like the wall's been dented from the impact. Her bookshelf hadn't survived either and there's a mass of planks and books and dvds strewn about.

It takes him a second to be able to think straight, the terror tightening his chest making it difficult for his to draw in a breath. When he manages to focus his other senses, sharper than a human's, they clue him into what has happened. There's a distinct scent in the air, that of a wolf other than him, and nothing underneath it to suggest that anyone unfamiliar to Klaus has been in the room recently. His fear shifts, changes, a heavy dose of dread sinking into him.

He'd never meant to scratch her, had been so relieved when it seemed like she'd remained unafflicted. He loathes that he'd been wrong, that he'd missed the signs and that she must have been dealing with changing on her own. He remembers how awful turning was in the beginning, how confused and scared he'd been waking up alone with blank spaces in his memory and odd impossible images where the previous hours should have been. It's gotten better, he's learned to manage the pain of changing, can focus in his wolf form enough to process what's happening and remember it later. If he hadn't he might never have met Caroline while capable of standing on two feet and carrying on a conversation.

That would have been a tragedy.

He hadn't set out to save a damsel in distress the first night he'd come upon her. Caroline had been on a camping trip (a girl's weekend, he'd later gleaned, organized by her friend Elena who was fond of nature based pursuits) and had taken a midnight swim. She'd been caught in a riptide, only managing the faintest alarmed gurgles as she fought the currents. Klaus, in wolf form, had the same thought about the water and had been hiding just inside the tree line, waiting – not so patiently – for the human to leave. When he heard her struggling he'd jumped in after her without a thought. She'd fought at first and he'd bet that's when he scratched her, but together they'd managed to get to safety. He'd waited long enough to see her cough up an alarming amount of lake water but, once he'd been assured she was breathing, he'd loped away, back into the woods.

He'd met her the next day at a gas station just outside of the national park Klaus preferred for full moons. They'd bickered over slurpees – Caroline seemed to think cramming every flavor into one cup was acceptable, Klaus disagreed. He'd learned her name, that she lived not far from him, all while her friends waffled over their snack selections.

He'd been able to engineer another meeting with a little careful Facebook snooping. It was only responsible, he'd told himself at the time. She'd been had a bandage on her arm and it was entirely possible he'd infected her.

He hadn't expected to find her to be as engaging as she was lovely. When the first full moon passed, seemingly without incident, Klaus hadn't even considered terminating the friendship they'd struck up, had even begun to nurse hope that it could be more than that.

And wasn't that was fortunate now?

Giving the room one last once over Klaus spies the navy fleece blanket that usually sits along the back of the couch wadded up in a corner. He retrieves it, shakes it out as best he can, and tosses it over his shoulder. Klaus ignores the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the shakiness of his limbs.

His anxiety isn't important now, only Caroline is. He has no hope for acceptance, not when he's ruined her life, but he refuses to dwell on that. He's got to find her and ensure that she's safe. He'll do his best to explain what he knows of werewolves, answer any questions she might have and, knowing Caroline, there will be an endless list.

Once he's achieved that and Caroline's home, fed and warm and _safe_, he'll wallow in self-pity and recriminations over the knowledge that she'll hate him for what he's done to her.

* * *

Caroline shifts, feels damp grass and various stones and twigs digging into her skin. "Ugh," she groans, cracking her eyes open. "This part is always gonna suck."

The clearing is familiar, it's not far from her house and she'd always thought it would make a killer romantic picnic spot. Now, waking up naked and filthy in the center of it, for the _fourth_ time, she can't really appreciate it's picturesqueness in quite the same way.

Besides, while she actually has a decent picnic partner prospect she's really going to need to figure out how to explain the recent freaky turns her life has taken before she makes a move. Hopefully in a way that wouldn't lead Klaus to run away screaming and never speak to her again.

There had to be _some_ way to make it seem cool and not psychotic, right?

As it was Klaus was too damn observant for Caroline's comfort and she'd been taking great pains to appear normal in front of him. She counted her bites of food, mindful of how it looked, and prayed her stomach wouldn't give away her always starving state. She held her breath whenever he was too near so she wouldn't be distracted by his scent. She was careful not to touch him, didn't want to accidentally grip too hard.

She did what she could to prepare, had taken to buying steaks in bulk so she could binge after he left. She did her best to fight the strange insistent urges she'd been having lately, pinched herself every time she considered climbing into Klaus' lap and sinking her teeth into his skin until he wore her mark prominently.

They hadn't even been on a _date_. Biting would totally freak him out.

She's determined to get a handle on things, to figure out how the whole werewolf thing worked, before she even _attempts_ to flirt with him. She'd noticed her senses sharpening incrementally each month, slight increases in her strength and stamina. Apparently that would continue but would eventually plateau. She just had to wait for it all to level out.

Patience wasn't her strong suit but she'd made up her mind. What if she broke him in the heat of the moment? Caroline would never forgive herself.

She pushes herself up, rolls her neck to the side and grimaces at the audible cracking of her bones. She gets to her feet easily, brushing off what she can, humming softly to herself.

The first time this had happened she's been too bewildered to appreciate the afterglow of her impromptu nude nature fugue – the energy buzzing through her, making her blood rush and her skin tingle. Getting home that morning had been a bitch and she'd thanked her lucky stars that it had been a Sunday and her neighborhood deserted. Sneaking in through her back fence she'd been annoyed to find it broken, puzzled to see her glass of wine and tablet still on the lounge chair she'd settled into the previous night. After a stressful week she'd been happy to just veg, enjoy the summer night with a book that was a little on the trashy side. She'd remembered sipping that first glass but little after and the bottle was still mostly full when she'd checked it.

It was then, in familiar surroundings, that she'd taken note of how clear-headed she was. She'd felt like she could have brokered world peace, run a marathon and charmed her way into the pants of a famous Chris or two. She'd felt like Alice, had even muttered, "Curious and curiouser."

A car engine had sounded somewhere on her block and she'd been jolted into action (and out of talking to herself like a crazy person), and Caroline had hurried inside, making a beeline for the shower. While lathering she'd kicked into planning mode, resolved to do some research, and made a mental not to make an appointment with her doctor on Monday.

At the check-up she'd made up a story about blacking out and waking up outside and her doctor had ordered some tests. She'd passed each one with flying colors – her blood pressure was even down a little – and had walked out with a recommendation to try a sleep study if she found herself being troubled by nocturnal wanderings again.

When it had happened a second time Caroline had turned to the internet. Immediately learned that her google-fu was strong enough to open up a whole new world.

Werewolves, it turned out, were totally a thing. With a thriving Tumblr community and all sorts of secret message boards. She'd dived in once she'd found out there wasn't exactly a cure, made some internet friends, skirted the 'woe is me, I am a hideous monster cursed to wander the earth alone and unloved' factions.

From what Caroline had experienced so far the pros outweighed the cons. She needs less sleep so her productivity is through the roof. She's burning calories like an Olympic athlete without having to set foot in the gym, indulging in Ben and Jerry's nightly. She's been careful about planning her full moons, recognizing that she could easily hurt someone. Caroline didn't want that, she's been diligently meditating and hoped to be able to accelerate the process of learning control. In the meantime she'd called in a couple of tips about wolf sightings to animal control and they'd been posting bulletins warning hikers and campers to be cautious. She'd taken to long nature walks in her free time, scoping out signs other humans were around, found the areas closest to her house that were free of campfire and litter, enough so that she felt safe indulging in the urge to run free.

She cringes once the last few clear memories drift to the front of her mind. Caroline can't believe she'd transformed _in her house_. That was such a misstep, she'd cut it _way_ too close, and it couldn't happen again. Hopefully the pain of checking her credit card balance, after she replaced her trashed living room furniture, would serve as a reminder.

It would suck, she knew, but redecorating _could_ be fun. Maybe she'd go for a bolder wall color. And Klaus was into art, teased her about the prints she'd had since college, so she could possible test the waters and finagle something pre-date like by getting him to offer to help her.

She couldn't jump his bones just yet but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy his company.

A rustling in the distance causes Caroline to still and she darts over to the tree she'd stashed a few things in. The bundle is tied to a branch, tucked close to the trunk and she quickly rips it down, shaking out the hopelessly wrinkled sundress it contained.

She's not exactly presentable when she throws it on but untidy was way better than naked when meeting strangers, right? Less crazy and alarming and unlikely to result in a call to the authorities.

Explaining a citation for public indecency to her mom was not something Caroline wanted to have to do. Once clothed she listens carefully, ducks down to yank up a couple wildflowers. She tucks a few behind her ear before glancing around for some more, mentally rehearsing words that will make her sound like a crunchy granola type (which would hopefully explain the lack of shoes). She's got her back to the intruder. She can tell from the footsteps that it's just one, she's not the least bit alarmed. Even before she'd become what she is now, stronger and faster and potentially more lethal than any human, she'd been well versed in self-defense courtesy of her parents.

Caroline's relaxed, resumes humming, only the notes fade away as the approaching person's pace quickens, she whirls when she feels them near her, eyes widening when she sees Klaus. He looks relieved, and scared and sad and about a dozen other things that she doesn't have time to register before he's touching her, hands urgent as they skim over her arms. He's gentle, his eyes scanning over her critically, "You're alright?" he asks, "No injuries?"

"I'm fine," she tells him, confused. What was he even doing here? "What…"

Klaus tugs her into him, cupping the back of her neck and bending to rest his forehead on her shoulder. He's shaking slightly as he mutters words of thanks, jumbled and reverent, before pulling back, his face tight with strain. "I am so, so sorry, love. I will do anything I can to make this better. I promise."

Caroline's confusion only grows. He's tense against her, his expression filled with resignation. Her mouth falls open, a demand for an explanation on the tip of her tongue. "Klaus, what? Make what…"

Her questions fall away when she inhales, breath stuttering out in one big woosh. She has a lot of feelings about the way Klaus smells and she's been careful not to think on them too deeply. She appreciates how he wears just the right hint of cologne, has come to love the way his scent lingers on her couch after they've been on a Netflix binge. It's clean, a little earthy, equal parts comforting and prone to send little tendrils of need pooling in her belly.

It's different today, all store bought fragrance absent. It's just his skin, and Caroline immediately knows. He's like her.

She can't break him.

She doesn't even think about it, just lets her instincts guide her. Her hands have been hanging loosely at her sides, unsure of how to deal with the sudden, uncharacteristic, physical affection from Klaus. He's always kept a careful distance between them, even when Caroline's caught him checking her out. She gets it now. He's been fighting the same desires she has.

Her hands reach out, sliding under fabric, searching for the heat of him. His muscles twitch under her palm, a ragged inhale ruffling the hair at her temple. "Caroline," he rasps out, "What…"

She shakes her head, presses her mouth to his throat. She tastes his skin, humming with the pleasure of it, relishing the throaty noise Klaus makes. She nips, he jolts, his grip on her tightening even as she pulls away to look at him, "I want you. I want you so much and I didn't think I could have you."

He wants to argue, Caroline can tell, sees him try to fight the haze of need that's washing over them.

She's not willing to let him, not when her heart's thrumming in anticipation and everything in her screaming that this is right. Her dress is easy enough to lose, as floaty and insubstantial as it is. A quick tug and the thin straps snap and it's pooled around her ankles. Klaus grits out a harsh curse as she rubs against him, moaning as she seeks to get as close as possible, her nails digging into his back as her hips push against his.

When his teeth sink into her bare shoulder Caroline knows she's won.


	87. Napkin Dispenser Surprise

**Notes: **This was drabble 2 from my fluff day. AH and actually short which is a rare thing. With the last chapter this collection hit 1000 reviews which is AMAZING. I can't thank you guys enough for humoring the weird and random bits and pieces I churn out.

**Napkin Dispenser Surprise**

**(Prompt: "This is the tenth time you've asked for a refill are you ok" AU. Rated K+. Title from "A New Name For Anything" by The Weakerthans.)**

Caroline tosses her notepad down on the chipped countertop before setting her hands on her hips. She arches backwards, careful not to let out any embarrassing noises when she feels the stretch, in an attempt to alleviate some of the soreness that's built up. She really shouldn't have offered to cover Bonnie's night shift. She works 8-4 weekdays answering phones, every weekend at a high end boutique, and picks up whatever hours she can squeeze in here at the diner. Her band's been tossing around the possibility of a tour and Caroline's determined to do her part to scrape together the money to fund it.

So what if it's her twelfth working day in a row? Money was money.

Enzo's busy cleaning out the bakery case, and if he knows what's good for him he'd better not be throwing out any slightly old but still perfectly good cupcakes. He sets the chocolate ones aside under her pointed gaze and Caroline nods in satisfaction. "You okay?" he asks He's probably concerned abou the truly gross cracks and pops her spine is making. Enzo's a good friend.

And he needed her to sing tomorrow.

She grabs one of the stools, rationalizing that it's 11 PM at a place that specializes in breakfast and no one will ever know about her little unscheduled break. The place is mostly empty anyway. There's a young couple playing footsie a little farther down the counter, an older guy with a laptop, a notebook, and a ridiculous number of pens set up in a table in the corner. Then there's the occupant of the booth along the back wall who'd just finished up his _ninth_ cup of coffee.

Seriously. It just wasn't healthy.

Casting a glance over her shoulder Caroline leans in, lowering her voice, "I think I need to cut the guy at table seven off."

Caroline had been expecting incredulity and Enzo doesn't disappoint. He crosses his arms and leans a hip on his side of the counter, enunciating slowly in condescending manner that has Caroline vowing revenge, "This is a _diner_, Gorgeous. Not a bar. We don't cut people off."

Luckily, she'd prepared an argument already. "Well we should. What if he OD's on caffeine, huh? I'm sure that's possible. Then it's lawsuit city and we can't afford that, Enzo."

Enzo squints, clearly skeptical, "_I'm_ not certain it's possible."

"It's a stimulant, isn't it? It must be possible to OD."

"Is he twitchy? Talking too fast? Does he seem confused? Is he sweaty looking?"

Grudgingly, Caroline can admit he seems perfectly normal. He's polite when she stops by, though he usually appears absorbed in his task. He's been methodically shredding the napkins at his table, folding them into a steadily growing sculpture bolstered by sugar packets and tiny plastic creamer cups. Enzo reads it on her face easily, damn him. "What is it that you always say to me when I question your definition of a 'slice' of pie? Something about not judging, if I recall correctly. Perhaps you should take your own advice?"

He ducks back into the kitchen, the door swinging behind him, and Caroline allows herself to make a not so mature face at his retreating back. Ugh, he was annoying. She was from the _south_. Generous helpings of pie were how she was raised, damn it.

Swivelling to check on her customer she finds him with his head bent low, intent on the mess on his table. She knows she should just do her job and pour his coffee with a smile (she'd sized him up when he came in, was fairly certain he'd be a good tipper) and without commentary.

But she's not going to.

Caroline's never been short of opinions and is rarely shy about sharing them. It's a flaw but she figures it's pretty ingrained at this point. She can play the sympathetic waitress, figure out what the guy's problem was, make sure he didn't die tragically via caffeine poisoning. It would be her good deed for the day.

With her mind made up Caroline strides briskly to the coffee pots she grabs one that's half full and snags the platter of cupcakes for good measure. He glances up, a small smile curving his (very nice, she can't help but note) lips. He blinks in surprise when she slides into the booth opposite him but he doesn't object. She gives him her very best customer service smile and keeps the coffee on her side, "Listen, I'm not having anyone die a coffee related death on my watch. I'm so not good at managing guilt. Can I convince you to switch to decaf?"

She holds her breath, hopes he doesn't immediately puff up in outrage (some men were douchebags like that. They seemed perfectly normal but went full psycho at the slightest hint of a challenge). She relaxes when he seems more amused than offended, "Afraid not. Can't stand the stuff."

Caroline nudges the cupcakes in his direction, "I figured. Have a cupcake then. On me. Well, kind of. They're about a half hour away from having to be tossed and it would be a shame for them to go to waste."

He shifts back, a smile growing, and sets his forearms on the table, "Are you trying to poison me? First decaf now nearly expired baked goods?"

"Only nearly expired according to the super strict health code. Normal people don't eat all the cupcakes they bake in one day, do they?"

He doesn't miss a beat, something Caroline can appreciate. "I'm sure some do. If gluttony's their deadly sin of choice."

Caroline bites her tongue before she can make a comment about how there are certain days of the month where she'd probably kill someone for a good bar of dark chocolate. That was neither professional nor something a stranger needed to know about her uterus. Instead she shrugs, "It's not the worst one, is it? A glutton's only hurting themselves."

His head dips and he reaches for a cupcake. "Touché. Thank you, Jessica."

It takes her a second to realize he's talking to her. "Oh, it's Caroline," she tells him.

His brows furrow and he glances pointedly at her name tag. Caroline waves a hand, "There's like ten badges in the back. All the most popular girl's names of the 1990's. I was Amanda the last time I worked. It keeps the creeps at bay, stops them from being able to track us down online."

"I like Caroline better."

Huh. She hadn't expected to be charmed when she'd sat down. Caroline thought herself mostly immune to accents, she talked to Enzo all the time so the novelty had worn off. But this guy's voice was kind of doing it for her.

Before she can think of a response he continues, "I'm Klaus. Niklaus, if you'd like to be formal or stalk me on social media. Last name Mikaelson. With a 'k'."

She finds herself laughing, "Careful, Klaus. That kinda sounds like an invitation."

He's taken a bite of cake, keeps his eyes on her face as he chews and swallows. It's snowing outside so there's no reason for Caroline to feel warm but she definitely does. Once his mouth is empty he speaks, the words doing nothing to help her temperature situation, "That's because it was, love."

"Wow," Caroline blurts out. "I've been hit on by a lot of customers but that was actually pretty smooth."

He seems pleased, tears off another piece of cupcake and lifts a brow in question, "Does that mean I've a chance at success?"

Instead of answering the question Caroline busies herself with the coffee, strives to keep from letting her face give anything away. She might be blushing a little but hopefully he'll chalk that up to work related exertion. "So why the coffee binge?" she prompts. "Work deadline? Personal life implosion?"

She's shamelessly fishing and she wouldn't blame him at all if he called her on it. There's a knowing glint in his eye but he lets it slide, launching into a story about a commission he'd just finished that he absolutely loathes. Finding out he's an artist makes her examine his sculpture more closely and she thinks she sees the beginnings of a horse.

Which, considering the raw materials, meant he was probably actually talented.

If he asks for her number she'll give him the real one, Caroline decides. Until then there's no reason she should be the only one sweating.


	88. Poisonously Pretty

**Notes: **The last of the fluffy drabbles from Tumblr! Vaguely historical but not at all accurate with a dash of fantasy. Enjoy!

**Poisonously Pretty**

**(Prompt:****"got drunk and broke into a dragon guarded tower together au" though technically more of a prequel to that series of events. Title from "Cheap And Evil Girl" by Bree Sharp. Rated K+)**

Klaus is near to nodding off at his post, tired from both a long journey and the evening's endless feast. He was _supposed_ to be tucked into his borrowed quarters but the evening guard had fallen ill. As Captain of the Royal Guard it had been up to Klaus to find a replacement. He'd found that the illness must be catching for several of the guard were complaining of fever and headache. Those unafflicted were well into their cups and so he'd had no other option but to stand guard outside the Princess' rooms himself.

Princess Caroline had already been abed when he'd arrived, her candles snuffed. He'd remained vigilant as the night wore on, as was his duty, though a threat was unlikely. This visit's purpose was friendly. Too friendly, in Klaus' opinion. He had not liked the look of either of this kingdom's princes, nor had he liked how they'd eyed Princess Caroline. At the welcoming banquet the offered wine was good and the food spare, carefully arranged to seem more abundant. Klaus had taken a cursory tour through the castle when he'd been given leave to rest, moving beyond the public areas. He had found many of the rooms shabbily furnished, insufficiently heated, and in need of repairs.

The Princess should have better, Klaus had decided and he was optimistic that she would have it. The King doted on her, was unlikely to attempt to force a match. It rankled that Caroline had seemed to enjoy the younger sons company, had smiled and laughed in a manner that hadn't _seemed_ counterfeit. Klaus had his suspicions, however. He'd had a lifetime to study the Princess' expressions, knew what she looked like when she flirted and he hadn't seen much in the way of genuine coquetry. That she'd cut the evening short and claimed exhaustion, retreating to her rooms before the dancing had begun was out of character, yet another hint that she was feigning delight in the younger Salvatore's attentions. There were few things the Princess loved more than dancing.

He is jarred by unexpected noises from inside the bedchamber, a soft thump, a louder crash, and some decidedly unladylike language. Klaus doesn't think before shoving the door open, his hand on the sword at his hip. He stops short at finding Caroline on the floor picking through the pieces of her broken jewelry box. There's a satchel half packed next to her and a pout upon her pretty face. She hiccups when she lifts her eyes to his, "Oh," she sniffs disdainfully. "Of course it's you."

He's not certain what he's done to earn her ire. As children, before they'd been forced to adhere to the strict rules of their relative stations, Klaus had often been unable to resist taunting Caroline. She'd flush, here blue eyes flashing and more than once she'd lobbed a nearby object at his head with impressive accuracy – a doll, an embroidery hoop, and on one occasion he'd been pelted by a barrage of cakes. The dish the sweets had been arranged on had nearly followed until Caroline's nurse had stepped in. Klaus misses those days sometimes, often finds himself swallowing teases and barbs in response to things the Princess says. It's not appropriate and he must learn to curb such impulses. Klaus does his best to be carefully respectful and polite, to treat her only with the greatest of diffidence. He crouches before her, "Are you injured, your majesty? Shall I fetch someone?"

She lets out a snort, "I am perfectly fine." She waves a hand in front of his face, "Well? Aren't you going to help me up? That's your _duty_ now, isn't it?"

Gingerly he grasps her offered hand, careful to keep the touch minimal. He keeps his eyes on her face and not on the yards of white linen swathing her slender frame as they rise. The effort to be circumspect is as Caroline careens into him once she's mostly upright, catching herself on his chest as she giggles. He catches a scent in her hair, bitter and spicy, and the reason for her unsteadiness immediately becomes clear. His men had been imbibing the same brew, a potent local specialty involving juniper berries. He's not certain who would have offered it to Caroline, or why she would have accepted, but if it was one of the King's worthless sons this visit might not end in the same spirit in which it began, diplomacy be damned.

Klaus is confident in his ability to make any injury that might befall the guilty party appear accidental.

Caroline makes no effort to leave his arms, slumping against him with a distracting hum of pleasure as her arms wind around him. Her words are slightly slurred when she speaks, her lips brushing against his skin, "Will you fetch my horse, Klaus? I've a journey to get started on."

A puzzling statement, as they'd just arrived and were set to stay for some time yet. He strokes her braid idly, unable to help himself. It's not as though she'll remember it, not in her state. "What journey?"

"The Prince told me of a tower. Of a dragon who guards it. The man who slays the beast is granted a wish. I need a wish, Klaus."

The explanation does nothing to clear up Klaus' confusion. Caroline had every comfort one could dream of, an army of servants to cater to her every whim, parents who adored her and a tight knit gaggle of friends. Why would she _risk_ all of that? It's not Klaus' place to ask but he finds he cannot stop himself. With all the rules he's broken this evening what is one more? "What could you possibly need, Car- Your Majesty?"

This time the sound that spills from her is harsh, aggravated. She pulls back, her eyes lit with a familiar fire, "Many things. I _wish_ to choose my husband. I _wish_ to have many years in which to make that choice. I wish he could be anyone, someone I could fall in love with. And I wish _you _would say my name again."

Klaus stiffens in shock, cannot manage to get his tongue to work properly. He finds himself stuttering, "I…"

"My name," she repeats fiercely, her fists clenching around the collar of his doublet. "Not my _title_."

He shakes his head, averts his eyes. "I cannot. You _know_ I cannot."

She releases him with a sigh, stumbling back. "I know nothing of the sort." Klaus moves to assist her automatically but the heat in her glare has his hands dropping. "Always so stubborn," she mutters, bending to retrieve her belongings. He sees her travelling cloak and a hint of alarm nags at him. She couldn't truly mean to leave on a mad quest? And certainly not alone?

Klaus clears his throat, attempts to soothe, "You should rest, Princess. It's very late."

She ignores him, striding over to the wardrobe and beginning to rifle through. "Sorry, Klaus but I've chosen a course. Much of the household will be indisposed tomorrow, it may very well be my only opportunity."

She's barely paying him any mind now, her manner dismissive. It galls and Klaus straightens his posture, his tone hardening with his resolve, "I will not allow you to leave the safety of this castle."

She actually laughs, throwing her head back. "Do you not wonder _why_ the household will be indisposed? You should. For it would be very easy for me to lay the blame at your feet. Who, after all, would believe that a sheltered princess from an unfamiliar land managed to dose the kitchen's mead?"

"You didn't," Klaus says, though he's not sure if he believes his own denial. There's a determination to this Caroline he's not often seen, obvious even though she remains slightly unsteady.

"The mead," she continues, as if he hadn't spoken, "that she imbibed of herself? That she convinced the vain younger son to pour for her, despite the impropriety, by batting her lashes and pleading oh so prettily?"

He's immediately furious that she'd taken such a risk. Vows to discover who had aided her and make them suffer. Klaus ruthlessly ignores the small part of him that admires her cunning.

The Princess shuts the wardrobe, seems to have finished her hasty packing. She whirls and makes her way to the door. She pauses at the threshold, an eyebrow raised in question. "Are you coming? Or shall I fetch you a flask and send you to your bed? I'm told the herb we used produces rapturous feelings that are well worth the pain that comes in the morning."

She disappears into the hallway before he can answer. Klaus does not hesitate in following. It was his duty and it was more than that. There was not even the faintest shred of a chance that he would allow Caroline to face a dragon alone.


End file.
